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