Put on the TV
Flick through the stations
In the truth or a miss interpretation
He doesn't care
All he cares about is going out tonight

He tucks his shirt in and does his hair nice
He's got to run to catch the bus and pays full price
Ten minutes late so he takes a deep breath and then goes inside

Now he's sitting on the sofa wanting to go over
He hasn't had a shave so he looks a little older
And he knows that if the truth be told he's got no chance

Yeh he's sitting on the sofa wanting to go over
He changes on to doubles so he does't feel as sober
All the drink, oh, it's making him think he's got more than a chance

So he stumbles down the hallway
His body's tired, but in his mind he's wide awake
He's not thinking about the foreplay
He's just a little boy who didn't realise

You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, she says
You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, she says
You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, she says
You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, she says
You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, she says

All he wanted was affection
It was so rude of her to blatanty reject him in that way
Just a little miss understanding
And now it's all to late
The fists fly in with a fury of rage

So he spills out to the garden
The windows steam up with them try to see the action from inside
Oh, but please don't wake the neighbours
He's just a little lad who didn't realise

You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, he says
You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, he says
You don't look with your hands; you look with your eyes, he says

No, you don't understand; you don't realise, she says
You don't look with your hands you look with your eyes

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