A man was shot right through the handnYesterday in IxcatannNobody knows whynThey saw the shooter flynLate-model ChevroletnThrough the dust of a dying daynThe fear of God dripping from his handsnLike the blood that was dripping in IxcatannnThey held him up, down in IxcatannBut the blood of a bull ain’t the blood of a mannOne’s for love, the other for painnBut you can’t tell that from the color of the stainnThe color of the stainnnMeanwhile on the mountain-sidenA bull’s being killed for a Spanish bridenThe men were in the river washing blood from their handsnThe wedding’s gonna be in IxcatannThe police here were looking for the crazy mannPut a bullet through a young man’s handnThey down at the river with their automatic gunsnThe groom was washing up in the evening sunnnThey held him up, down in IxcatannBut the blood of a bull ain’t the blood of a mannOne’s for love, the other for painnBut you can’t tell that from the color of the stainnnThey held him up, down in IxcatannBut the blood of a bull ain’t the blood of a mannOne’s for love, the other for painnBut you can’t tell that from the color of the stainnFrom the color of the stainnThe color of the stainnNo you can’t tell that from the color of the stainnThe color of the stainnThe color of the stainnNo you can’t tell that from the color of the stainnThe color of the stainnThe color of the stainnYou can’t tell that from the color of the stainnThe color of the stainnThe color of the stainnNo you can’t tell that from the color of the stainnThe color of the stainnThe color of the stainnYou can’t tell that from the color of the stainnThe color of the stainnThe color of the stainnYou can’t tell that from the color of the stainnThe color of the stain
Ixcatan
Romantica
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Lyrics by Romantica
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