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
   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)