...

She

may be the face I can't forget

a trace of pleasure I regret

may be my treasure or the price I have to pay

she may be the song that Solomon sings

may be the chill that autumn brings

my be a hounded 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 heave or a hell

she may be the mirror of my dream

a smile reflected in a stream

she may not be what she may seem

inside as shell

she

who always seems so happy 'n proud

who's 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 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