She - Daniel Boaventura

She may be the face I can’t forget

The trace of pleasure or regret

Maybe my treasure or the price I have to pay

She may be the song that summer sings

Maybe the children autumn brings

Maybe a hundred different things

Within the measure of a day

She may be the beauty or the beast

Maybe the famine or the feast

May turn each day into a 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 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 maybe the love that cannot hope to last

May come to leap from shadows in the past

That I remember 'till the day I die

She maybe the reason I survive

The why and wherefore kind of life

The one I care for through the rough and ready years

Me, I’ll take the laughter and your tears

And make them all my souvenirs

And when she goes I’ve got to be

The meaning of my life is

She… she

Oh, she