by Elvis Costello
She may be the face I can’t forget,
A trace of pleasure or ,
May be my treasure or the price
I have to pay.
She may be the song that Summer ,
May be the chill that Autumn brings,
May be a hundred different things
Within the of a day.
She may be the beauty or the ,
May be the famine or the feast,
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell.
She may be the of my dreams,
A smile reflected in a .
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell.
She, who always seems so happy in a ,
Whose eyes can be
So private and so .
No one’s allowed to see them
When they cry.
She may be the love
That cannot hope to ,
May come to me from of the past
That I’ll remember till the day I die.
She may be the reason I ,
The why and wherefore I’m alive,
The one I’ll care for
Through the and ready years.
Me, I’ll take her and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I’ve got to be.
The meaning of my life is she.
She, she, she.