She
Maybe the face I can´t forget
A trace of pleasure or regret
Maybe my treasure or the price I have to pay
She maybe the song that summer sings
Maybe the chill that autumm brings,
Maybe a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day.
She
Maybe the beauty or the beast,
Maybe the famine or the feast,
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell,
She maybe the mirror of my dreams,
A Smille reflected in a stream,
She may not be what she may seen
Inside her shell.
She
Who always seems so happy in a crowd,
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud,
No one´s allowed to see then when they cry,
She maybe the love that cannot hope to last,
May come to me from shadows of the past,
That I´ll remember till day I die.
She
Maybe the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I´m alive,
The one I´ll care for through the rough and ready years
Me I´ll take her laugther and her tears,
and make them all my souvenirs
For where sher goes I´ve got to be
The meaning of my life is
She, She, She!
