Lletres: Citizen Fish. Flinch. First Impressions.

Closed off he took her by the hand and coughed
To cover an understanding loss
Perhaps this stake could be put across
Without saying whether it was good or not
Decided? Hardly! Couldn't give a toss
Played up to a crowd like Jonathan Ross
Or some such personality deceit
But left the situation with something more complete

That scared the hell for its obvious showing
Of a well inside full of deeper knowing
That said "That was all wrong"
Reversed the role from weak to strong
Decided to whom he really belonged
And later felt the pain it caused
Like a victory without the war
Incomplete and nothing more

That selfish - what did he do it for?
What did he do it for?

Taking time out to stay aloof
Had made the problem twice as bad
With a hatred of the actual truth
He cut the little bond they had

Don't take anyone for granted
Every first impression slanted
Next one came as a surprise
And opened up some guilty eyes
Take a sip from each other's cup
Then find a common one to fill
And if it tasted good fill it up
And if it doesn't let it spill