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)