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