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
