She may be the face I can't forgetA trace of pleasure or regretMay be my treasure orThe price I have to pay
She may be the song that summer singsMay be the chill that autumn bringsMay be a hundred different thingsWithin the measure of a day
She may be the beauty or the beastMay be the famine or the feastMay turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreamA smile reflected in a streamShe may not be what she may seemInside her shell
She who always seems so happy in a crowdWhose eyes can be so private and so proudNo one's allowed to see themWhen they cry
She may be the love that cannot hope to last,May come to me from shadows of the past,That I'll remember till 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 theRough and ready years.
Me, I'll take her laughter and her tearsAnd make them all my souvenirsFor where she goes I've got to beThe meaning of my life is she, she, she