She maybe the face I can't forget A trace of pleasure or regret Maybe my treasure or the price
She maybe the song that summer sings Maybe the chill that autumn brings Maybe a hundred different things Within a measure of a day
She maybe the beauty or the beast Maybe the famine or the feast May turn each day into a heaven
She meaybe the mirror of my dream A smile reflected in a stream She may not be what she may seem
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 She maybe the love that cannot hope to last May come to me from shadows of the past
She maybe the reason I survive The why and wherefore I'm alive The one I'll care for through the
Me I'll take her laughter 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 mm More from Charles Aznavour