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 maybe the beauty or the beast, May be the famine or the feast.
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell.
She maybe the mirror of my dreams, the smile reflected in a stream.
She may not be what she may seem inside her shell.
Music By: Elvis Costello.
Listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXqcokP4C7E