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The Russian Futurists
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The Matador's Theme
I feel like a Matador taunting a bull, Like I'm balancing with no net on a cable and I'm scratching my way out of an Avalanche, and Chalking my heart's whims up to happenstance
I've seen the Holy Saints in Your image captured in paint and It's flawless and life just ain't, 'Cause it's ripped and torn the day you're born
As the sky burns like a wick above, We're in deep, in the thick of love But I'm lovesick and you're sick of love, So now our time's up, the cord gets cut
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com But now I feel like a Matador taunting a bull, Like I'm balancing with no net on a cable and I'm scratching my way out of an Avalanche, and Chalking my heart's whims up to happenstance
With its desires like Well stoked fires and Thorny briars for you to tame
And it sang higher than Young church choirs or Piano wires that you could play
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