She may be the face I can't forget 
The trace of pleasure or regret 
May 
be my treasure or the price I have to pay 
She may be the song that summer 
sings 
May be the chill that autumn brings 
May be a hundred different 
things 
Within the measure of a day

She may be the beauty or the beast 

May be the famine or the feast 
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell 

She may be the mirror of my dreams 
The smile reflected in a stream 

She may not be what she may seem 
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 them when they cry 
She may be the love that 
cannot hope to last 
Beckons indeed from shadows of the past 
That I'll 
remember 'til the day I die 

She may be 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 laughter and her tears 
And make them all my 
souvenirs 
For when she goes I've got to be 
The meaning of my life is 
she
She... , oh she