[Verse]
The bar next to the bar
The dirty floor full of brown dust
The irrational tamer from Morocco
With a hat and a baroque suit
He uses the leash when she makes a mistake
She protects her little head
Rage mixed with terror
The claw, the roar, the bellow and the snoring let out
She remembers her land, the rice fields
Her son face down playing with the mud
Poachers and troublemakеrs arrive
They take risk-free picturеs of her showing off
She's loaded by four men on a Range Rover
With each blow of the club she is more submissive
The requirement is that she gets used to the horror
And they lock her in the cage that is now her world