In a small village near La Plaza Mexico lived a boy not so many years ago
And hunger was his enemy every day but he never begged the boy called Jos탩
And every day he worked in the fields he worked well
And when the night came this boy slept where he fell
And the earth was the only mother he ever knew some people say
And she gave him strenght and he grew to be a man called Jos탩 (Jos탩 Jos탩)
One Sunday afternnon this young man saw his first bullfight
And his blood ran hot and he couldn't sleep that night
And as the morning came he thought he heard his mother say
Now you know why you were born Jos탩
And he lived for one thing and nothing more he had to be the very best matador
And when he killed his first bull one bright Sunday
You could hear a lace a hundred miles for Jos탩 (Jos탩 Jos탩)
And as his fame grew his fortune grew too but he gave much of this fortune away
Because he knew that other's fight is old enemy hunger every day
And so many times he heard God bless you Jos탩
And the years passed and Jos탩 said I'll fight great bulls no more
The younger men they better sooth it for
The Sunday game with its blood and its death to pay
You'll soon forget the matador Jos탩 (Jos탩 Jos탩)
And the next morning we found him lying on the ground
He didn't move he didn't make a sound
And yet we heard from somewhere someone say
Welcome home my little boy Jos탩 (Jos탩 Jos탩 Jos탩 Jos탩)