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 unfortunate
End