Lyrics

The cape hangs down, draped low and wrapped like a gift
Gliding 'round canvass shoes, shaped by sea and cliffs
A lonely life in the sun
Broken parts for everyone

Early morning,
Another warning
One quick stroke to glory,
Or one final slip for the Matador,
Who moves among the bulls with choreography,
A ghost for all to see,
A man of mystery,
A well-dressed refugee

The cap is tipped for those who scream to view the shiny crown
The summer sun knows everyone, but somehow lets me down
A lonely life in the shade
Not even shadows can be made

Early morning,
Another warning
One quick stroke to glory,
Or one final slip for the Matador,
Who moves among the bulls with choreography,
A ghost for all to see,
A man of mystery,
A well-dressed refugee

After the blood-letting,
Someone must clear the setting
A crime committed by a thief, whose sword never left its sheath
The Matador...