outubro 31, 2007

She
May be the face I can’t forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay

She
May be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day

She
May be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell

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 when 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 the rough and ready years

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, oh she

3 comentários:

tcl disse...

esta canção, que já é um must, ganha um charme especial com o sotaque do aznavour não é? também a tenho aqui gravada no meu pc.

Mad disse...

Tudo no Aznavour me encanta. Até a fealdade, perfeitamente "perdoada" assim que ele abre a boca.

ana vidal disse...

Nem o acho feio, de tanto charme!