A Christmas fir Of The angels has half bare garlands fill with wonder It is one year of more The present qu ´ I waited the poor man slips me a few fingers And is to break Yes as has every time

Fighters dance The sun as the bullfighters hang on in roofs of watchtowers And in the arena which claims its blood my eyelids coward in the middle of the quack grass

The very first conquest the One who makes swear to us That on other planet the inventing In The morning of a firing Definitely on would be needed it is necessary to take in parents In they explain That they a bit got lost

Fighters dance The sun as the bullfighters hang on in roofs of watchtowers And in the arena which claims its blood my eyelids coward in the middle of the quack grass

And a day it there the one Who d ´ t ´ makes fall of dense clouds the One who will give That from her that they will have wanted A home, a family Without expecting it more the babies puts make-up On love of course

Fighters dance The sun as the bullfighters hang on in roofs of watchtowers And in the arena which claims its blood my eyelids coward in the middle of the quack grass

Fighters dance The sun as the bullfighters hang on in roofs of watchtowers And in the arena which claims its blood my eyelids coward in the middle of the quack grass