El Cordobes and the night

The moon in her barrera seat
laughs and chants, hot and white

I wear the night, the dusty night
with the tear in his pocket
where the cars stream out
like marbles. They zip past me now
their headlights blindly lancing
the lapels of the night
like Impulsivo the bull

Yes, tonight is a torero school
and I wear the dusty raincoat night
although he is too big for me
(the sleeves are tripping up my feet)
Pedestrians like banderillas
pin his neck - I'm El Cordobes
lonely on the 1 o' clock street

The moon in her barrera seat
laughs and chants, hot and white
I look ridiculous - that's how
I always look for her at night