G Bb When he moves I watch him from behind C he turns and laughter flickers in his eyes G intent and direct when he speaks, I watch his lips G Bb When he drives I love to watch his hands C white and smooth almost feminine, G almost american, I have to watch him. Chorus G Bb C in his face age descends on youth, exaggeration on the truth G he caught me looking then but soon his eyes forgot G Bb C and everything he seems to do reflects just another shade of blue G I saw him searching into you and ached a while G Bb I watch his lips caress the glass, C his fingers stroke its stem and pass G to lift a cigarette at last, he dries his eyes G Bb from a shadow by the stair C I watch as he weeps unaware G that I'm in awe of his despair, but I am there (chorus repeat)