Every sunday in the morning the people fill the stands They are waiting for a bullfight, the bulls wait for their chance Chance to break out of their prison and battle to survive In a bullring filled with killers that want to take their lifes Flying, flying bull; he was in panic, flying bull An he was trying to scape from the bullring, flying bull Once he smelled the scent of freedom his courage made him jump Sored above the walls of torture and landed on the crowd Then he went into a rampage and people had to run So that sunday in the morning the bull got his revenge Flying, flying bull; he was in panic, flying bull And he was trying to scape from the bullring, flying bull