The old men with their traditions challenged Refrained from tears. - Natalie Merchant

wide open falsehood
the clandestine truths
rival till the end
in a series of duels
pardon the drapery language I choose
Waltz in Vienna has taught me to use

every tall room a fiction
leatherbound treasure books
up to the ceiling
gold spine upon spine

the guile and the treason
the faith and allegiance

wide open falsehood
the clandestine truths
rival till the end
in a series of duels
pardon the drapery language I choose

the author grew fat to imagine
his lead pen careening
gave voice to the scheming
an Aryan cabale to dethrone

the guile and the treason
the faith and allegiance
to the empire unknown

the baron and his mistress
dine in a fine banquet hall
as rebel insurgents
plot in the attic space crawl

the guile and the treason
the faith and allegiance
now lie in my hand

Bred for one purpose only, to die in man's sport.

There were women holding rosaries
On the day Manolete died
Teenage girls in soft white dresses
Standing silent peace respecting
Groups of boys held in their hands
The fragments of a shattered idol
The old men with their traditions challenged
Refrained from tears

Neck neck hook
Poles of wood
The Picadors stood eyes ablaze
To view the brutal contest
In the vale of years

Courage unfailing
Agility exhausted
Youth entered challenge
Reached for title shelved

The patrons in attendance
To disarm a common myth
Homage played to the victor of immortality
Cloaked in bold tones

And in the stockyard
Beasts did climb their barriers
Bid by a frenzied ring

Bred for one purpose only
To die in man's sport
Dash against the spindle
On the day Manolete died
On the day

An instant fell to wounding
On the day

Swords penetrating
On the day

Torches igniting
On the day

Flower wreaths encircling
The day
On the day