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
C
I watch as he weeps unaware
G
that I'm in awe of his despair, but I am there
(chorus repeat)
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