Dry ice is on the gory spot; it's throbbing where I'm scored.
I was trampled in this village, where my aching abs were gored.
Here's hope in the fateful fighting, the terror bull gets the sword.
My tooth, I think, is gone.

Gory, gory la corrida [running of the bulls (in Pamplona, Spain)].
I gave the cops a mordida [bribe].
Algo en boca, perdida [something's missing in my mouth].
My tooth, I think, is gone.

I am bleeding from the notch where the horn pricked me down in Pamp'.
Oh, my limbs have been quite altered; they have even got a cramp.
They have swaddled me in bandages that now are getting damp.
The tube is in my arm.

[Alternate verse]
I am bleeding from the notch where the horn pricked me down in Pamp'.
Bet my bill will be muy alta; much dinero will decamp.
They have swaddled me in bandages that now are getting damp.
The tube is in my arm.

Gory, gory la corrida.
Squashed me on the avenida.
I'd had too many bebidas [drinks].
The tube is in my arm.

In the ring the matador prepares his sword of burnished steel.
In the hospital the morphine hits me, and I cannot feel.
And the nurse throws out my shoes because there's bullshit on the heel.
My Gucci marchers gone.

Gory, gory la corrida.
¿Cómo va a la lidia [What's happening at the bullfight]?
Have to wear some zapatillas [slippers].
My Gucci marchers gone.

There's a morphine pump, I pump it; the sensation is so sweet.
As my heart pumps it through my veins, I am numb from head to feet.
So much better than the stuff I typically buy on the street.
Those poppy pods were strong.

Gory, gory la corrida.
¡Mierda! hospital comida [hospital food sucks!].
Muzak here is not "Aida."
Those poppy pods were strong.

Now I cannot feel my willie, but I think I've got to pee.
I'm imploring that a bedpan be a high priority.
Though I try to wait and hold it. . .high tide: enuresis* sea!
My rod's stream's arcing on.

Pouring, pouring, the urethra.
Forget going to Ibiza [Castilian pronunciation: Ibitha].
Mi bicho no es arida [my d*ck's not arid].
My rod's stream's arcing on.

[Alternate verses]
Now I cannot feel my willie, but I think I've got to pee.
I'm imploring that a bedpan be a high priority.
Yes, he pried and made me holey, but he died—is stiff and fri-
O. I feel something warm!

Pouring, pouring, the urethra.
Forget going to Ibiza.
Mi bicho no es arida.
Oh, I feel something warm!


*Incontinence.