| Watching like wolves inside of a cage | |
| The kids and the old. The sick and the weak | |
| Their cameras flash away | |
| The age of Matadors has come | |
| The blood on the sand. The beast and the man, they know it has to end this way | |
| They say, "Hey! Ole, ole!" | |
| They slash away. Ole, Ole! | |
| Don't mind the gunfire in the night. | |
| Just hold me tight and we'll be alright if we can hold the line | |
| They're taking over 2 by 2 | |
| Death in their eyes. The dim and the wise see it coming | |
| They say, "Hey! Ole, ole!" | |
| They slash away. Ole, Ole! | |
| Watch them spin. The spears go in. Reach up to the sun | |
| On bended knees, with a dying wheeze, prepare another one | |
| And they say, "Hey! Ole, ole!" | |
| They slash away. Ole, Ole! |
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