Lyrics:

Sad little boy of the streetHands of a thiefWith the mind of a dreamerDodging the puddles with feetOf a torero in a
n ArenaSings an old Andalucian songDancing alongUsing his dirty red coat as a capeRain thundering downSounds like the app
lause fromHundreds of peopleHe feels free as the windFree as the swiftsAround the cathedralKneels to acknowledge his fame
Forgets all his painLittle Toreador in the RainBathed in a Rainbow of PinkPurple and Blue outside La MolinaThe pavement re
flecting the neonLights this Torero in his arenaHe looks down at his clothesImagining thoseWorn of sequin, Gold and Brocade
He kneels and kisses the beastFearing the leastKnowing death will not find himBut maybe one day he will faceThe Horns of
the DevilHis childhood behind himBrave young man from the streetsNo more a thiefNo longer a dreamerStands in front of the
BeastA golden Torero in an ArenaIt starts to thunder and rainRemembering that dayHe danced like a fool on the wing of a dr
eamSand turning to mudSoon where his blood will splatter and mingleFree, Free as an AngelUp with the swiftsAround the cat
hedralNever to be seen againDreams all in vainThere lies the Toreador in the rainLittle Toreador in the rainLittle Toread
or in the rain