Bewilderbeast - Skyclad

See the brave toreador

Just look at him thrive of the crowd as they roar

For death brings a thrill to the everyday lives

Of the «non-com» observers who gloat and chastise

My mind can’t believe we maintain

This barbarous blood-thirsty game

In their picturesque dwellings the aristo-classes

Spill blood that’s not claret from cut-crystal glasses

Never once pausing to contemplate why

For vanity’s victories innocents die

No better than bloodhounds hot on the scent

They butcher their prey when its energy’s spent

My mind can’t believe we maintain

This barbarous blood-thirsty game

Please show me this sportsman you mention with pride

With his dog to defend him and his gun at his side

If courage is the one thing your kind do not lack

Then why don’t you hunt something that can fight you back?

I see only cowardice ridden by guilt

And your hands won’t wash clean of the blood they have spilt

What measure of madness makes you all so ill

That your passport to pleasure’s a licence to kill

So I won’t waste my time trying to understand why

For vanity’s victories innocents die

'cause you’re all vicious bastards, I’m sick of your crap

So I won’t bat an eyelid when it’s you in the trap

I still can’t believe we maintain

This barbarous blood-thirsty game