# “Rage . . . Deep, Hate-Filled Eyes . . .”

Olay. Olay. Olay. Olay. Olay. Olay. (Repeat twice)

Rage . . .  deep hate filled eyes . . .
Both have their points they wish to drive home.
Ancient . . . The dance between the bull and matador . . .
Who shall be the victor?
One shall knock upon heaven’s door . . .

Velour . . .  red rose-laced cape . . .
All dressed in white awaiting for his foe.
Standing . . .  in the center of the sand . . .
Waiting, to put on their dance between the bull and matador.

Rose’s . . .  flying through the air . . .
The victor shall return, to give the crowd some more.
It doesn’t . . .  matter who wins . . .
The crowd cheers the one who’s left standing upon the blood-soaked sand.