lyrics
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Love of a Sort
© Copyright George Papavgeris, December 2008

Every Monday to Friday
One o'clock on the dot
They will meet in the café
It's their favourite spot
From their work equidistant
Corner table inside
Windowpane glare resistant
All the better to hide.

Both are very presentable
Always dressed to the nines
With her makeup immaculate
Though it can't hide the lines
Their love interest lingers
Duty free like cologne
But the rings on their fingers
Tell a tale of their own.

But don't look disapprovingly
For you'd be out of court.
It's not love as we know it,
But it's love of a sort.

He would like to be young and cool
But just manages suave
With an accent from boarding school
And a tan from Algarve
He's the consummate gentleman
Very eager yet warm
Like an actor who suddenly
Has a chance to perform.

She will laugh just too readily
At his jokes and his quips
Which he tells just too greedily
From a well-practised script.
But there's something so desperate
In the way they hold hands
And she always looks desolate
When he pays up and stands.

And you cannot but wonder
If for him it's just sport
It's not love as we know it,
But it's love of a sort.

Was it plan or coincidence
That they happened to meet?
Were they seeking a victory,
Or admitting defeat?
Who 's the giver or taker
It's not easy to tell
Who 's the fraud, who 's the faker
And who 's under a spell.

So don't jump to your dictum -
Things are not what they seem
Both aggressor and victim
Both lost souls in a dream
And it's tender and sordid
Sweetness mixed with deceit
But the light won't reward it
And their secret won't keep.

Soon the lunchtime is over
And their kisses cut short.
It's not love as we know it,
But it's love of a sort.

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