She was marrying a matador

And he was with the weather girl

A very clever girl

Who stood out amongst several ones



A terrible dilemma

And forever he'll regret this day

He didn't make the rescue from the bull ring



Sulking won't get you nowhere, son

There's blood on your chin

Where you've bitten your tongue



Smitten but might not be smitten for long

If you're still sitting

She'll soon be smitten and gone