Miguel the matador’s prowess was second to none With a cape and a sword, so adored in the afternoon sun Year upon year they would cheer for the star of the ring But it meant not a thing
He felt no excitement, a searing indictment On quite how dull it was to win Again and again and again and again
As the rage of youth faded he jadedly jabbed at the beast And he yearned for the hour when sourly, he would head east To the place one entreats the girls from the streets For unusual feats
He treated them finely with dinner and wine Took them out to the best brasseries A debonair chap, with a doff of his cap he could put Pretty girls at their ease
So after politely declining their favours It helped if the lady was large He dressed them in leather, adorned them with horns Braced himself and shouted Charge!
Miguel the matador met an unfortunate end When Georgina, a greenhorn in whoring went quite round the bend She was blind in one eye, so no depth could perceive And Miguel was naïve
He screamed and insisted she cease and desist But she thought it was all just pretend Georgina’s green horn could no more be torn From Miguel’s unfortunate end Unfortunate end Unfortunate end The unfortunaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate End.