Yazoo - Ode to boy

^FWhen he moves I watch him from ^D#behind he turns and laughter flickers in his ^Feyes intent and direct when he ^Fspeaks, I watch his lips When he ^Fdrives I love to watch his ^D#hands white and smooth almost ^Ffeminine, almost american, ^FI have to watch him.

^Fin his face age descends on ^D#youth, exaggeration on the ^Ftruth he caught me looking then but ^Fsoon his eyes forgot and ^Feverything he ^D#seems to do reflects just another shade of ^Fblue I saw him searching into you and ^Fached a while

^FI watch his lips caress the ^D#glass, his fingers stroke its stem and ^Fpass to lift a cigarette at ^Flast, he dries his eyes ^Ffrom a shadow by the ^D#stair I watch as he weeps ^Funaware that I'm in awe of his ^Fdespair, but I am there