Pamplona (short version)

 

Pamplona,  protéjanos San Fermín, voy con una media y un calcetín

 

On the seventh of July, then for seven days running

They’ll be running the bulls to the ring every morning at seven

And you’re standing there pawing at the street

While the newspaper squeaks in your hand

Till the rockets go hissing in the square

Then you swear you don’t care

You just pissed in your pants

(Here they come)

 

Pamplona, ayyy, Pamplona, there’ll the death in the afternoon

Pamplona, protéjanos San Fermín, voy con una media y un calcetín

 

Vamos a la calle

Que viene el desfile

Vamos a los toros

A los pobres de San Fermín

 

He was the bravest of bulls and his charges were noble and true

And he battled with courage and passion and honor

And everyone in la plaza knew

But in the shadows in the ring on the sand

That beast was butchered by the sword

And a chorus of curses and whistles and cushions

Rained down on a shamed matador

 

Pamplona, ayyy, Pamplona

There’ll the death in the afternoon

 

Pamplona, protéjanos San Fermín

Voy con una media y un calcetín

 

© 1989. Billy Marabella.