martedì 22 gennaio 2013


She 
May be the face I can't forget 
A 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 tearful things 
Within the measure of the day. 

She 
May be the beauty or the beast 
May be the famine or the feast 
May turn each day into heaven or a hell 
She may be the mirror of my dreams 
A smile reflected in a stream 
She may not be what she may seem 
Inside a 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 can and hope to last 
May come to me from shadows of the past 
That I remember till the day I die 

She 
May be the reason I survive 
The why and where for I'm alive 
The one I'll care for through the rough and rainy years 
Me I'll take her laughter and her tears 
And make them all my souvenirs 
For where she goes I got to be 
The meaning of my life is 

She, she, she

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