Matador

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 the day
He didn’t make the rescue from the bullring
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