She may be the face I can't forget, a trace of pleasure or regretMaybe my treasure or the price I have to payShe may be the song that summer sings, maybe the chill that autumn bringsMaybe a hundred different things within the measure of a dayShe may be the beauty or the beast, maybe the famine or the feastMay turn each day into heaven or hellShe may be the mirror of my dream, a smile reflected in a streamShe may not be what she may seem inside her shellShe always seems so happy in a crowd, whose eyes can be so private and so broadNo one's allowed to see them when they cryShe may be the love that cannot hope to last, may come to me from shadows of the pastThat I remember till the day I dieShe may be the reason I survive, the why and wherefore I'm aliveThe one I'll care for through the rough and red yearsMe, I'll take her laughter and her tears and make them all my souvenirsFor where she goes, I've got to be, the meaning of my life isShe, she, oh she