Gretchen Peters - The matador

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I t^Amhrew a rose to the matador, not s^Fure who I was cheering for, My a^Gim was true, my heart was full, I lo^Fved the fighter... and the bull, I l^Amoved like only a woman can, ^F a very complicated man, I bo^Gund his wounds, I heard his cries, I g^Fave him truth, I told him lies!

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His r^Amage is made of many things, ^F faithless women, wedding rings, Sn^Gakes and snails and alcohol, his da^Fddy's fist thrown through the wall, Ah, but he's bea^Amutiful when he's in the ring, the de^Fvil howls, the angels sing, Sp^Garks fly from his fingertips, and wo^Frds, like birds, fly from his lips!

Some m^Fan is lying in the dirt, some wo^Gman's crying that he's hurt, But he's n^Fot alive without the thrill, with - o^Gut the dance, without the kill,^{Gsus4 G} The li^Fghts go down, the people roar, they're che^Gering on the matador, And t^Fhis is how the story goes, I k^Gnew it when I threw... the ^Amrose! ^F

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I c^Amome to each and every show, the wo^Fman in the second row, I wa^Gtch them in their ancient dance, and I k^Fnow I never stood a chance, 'Cause while o^Amther demons prance and clown, ^F it's vanity that takes you down, I tho^Gught that I could be the one, but I'm j^Fust another... hanger-on!

Some m^Fan is bleeding in the dirt, some wo^Gman's crying that she's hurt, But w^Fho are we without the thrill, with - o^Gut the dance, without the kill? ^{Gsus4 G} And ^Fhe is bull and matador, and I^G'm the mother, and the whore, And t^Fhis is how the story goes, I k^Gnew it when I threw..^Am. the rose! ^F

| ^Am / / / / | ^F/ / / / | I th^Amrew a rose to the matador, not s^Fure who I was cheering for, My a^Gim was true, my heart was full, I lo^Fved the fighter... and the bull!

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