You're going to give yourself away one of these nights. Your gaze of compassion just a little too right. Your hug of encouragement's a little too tight. And then he'll know. It's the little things betray. Going to give yourself away to some Casanova. On the spills and stains of the backstage sofa. He'll catch you yawning with one leg over. And there's the sin. Must be the enemy within. And that's the way that it shows. That's the way that it shows. That's the way that it shows. The way that it shows. That's the way that it shows. That's the way that it shows. A slip of the tongue a squeeze of the hand. The way that it shows. There's glycerine in the tear rouge in the blush. You're artful stammer a little too rushed. All passion to the eye all cold to the touch. And then he'll guess. Your mind has drifted in the kiss. There's a chink in your armour a crack in your defenses. Your iron will gives way to your senses. Your whispered sweet nothings all sound like expenses. And that's enough. He won't believe your words of love. And that's the way that it shows. That's the way that it shows. Yes that's the way that it shows. The way that it shows. That's the way that it shows. That's the that's the way that it shows. A slip of the tongue a squeeze of the hand. That's the way that it shows