She may be the face I can't forget
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The 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 a 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 in to a heaven or a hell
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She may be the mirror of my dreams
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Her smile reflected in a stream
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She may not be what she would seem
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Inside her shell
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She would always seem so happy like a cloud
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Whose eyes can be so bright 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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But I'll remember 'til the day I die
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She may be the reason I survive
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The why and where for 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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The way she goes that, got to be
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The meaning of my life is she
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She, she
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She (From 'Notting Hill')
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| Elvis Costello |
