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She may be the face I can't forget, |
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A trace of pleasure or regret, |
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May be my treasure or |
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The price I have to pay. |
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She may be the song that summer sings, |
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May be the chill that autumn brings, |
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May be a hundred different things |
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Within the measure of a day. |
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She may be the beauty or the beast, |
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May be the famine or the feast, |
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May turn each day into a |
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Heaven or a hell. |
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She may be the mirror of my dream, |
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A smile reflected in a stream, |
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She may not be what she may seem |
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Inside her shell. |
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She who always seems so happy in a crowd, |
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Whose eyes can be so private and so proud, |
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No one's allowed to see them |
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When they cry. |
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She may be the love that cannot hope to last, |
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May come to me from shadows of the past, |
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That I remember till the day I die. |
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She may be the reason I survive, |
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The why and wherefore I'm alive, |
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The one I'll care for through the |
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Rough and rainy years. |
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Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears |
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And make them all my souvenirs |
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For where she goes I've got to be. |
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The meaning of my life is she, she, she--. |
