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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 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 heaven or a hell |
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She may be the mirror of my dreams |
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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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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 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’ll 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 rough and ready 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 |
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