the book club (band) - death in the afternoon lyrics
the matador corners the beast
the anarchist enslaves the priest
from barcelona, down to seville
they drink the c#cktail of the k!ll
the captive begs for his release
as they drag him by his ankles through the cobbled streets
long live the republic, the people sing
a somewhat futile prophecy
and what a way to die, the middle of july
no final requests, or no final rites
your god’s not for the poor, he’s not welcome anymore
and neither are his spies
they found a bruise upon my chest
it was el capitan’s request
the day the foreign legion came, they lived up to their wretched names
the bullet holes still watch you from the wall
and what a way to die, the middle of july
no final requests, or no final rites
your god’s not for the poor, he’s not welcome anymore
and neither are his spies
but do not be deceived, lying ‘neath your feet, your feet
a thousand broken bones will show how uncle franc did get his sweet revenge
the matador corners the beast
the matador corners the beast
the day the foreign legion came, they lived up to their wretched names
the day the foreign legion came, they lived up to their wretched names
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