She may be the face I can't forget The trace of pleasure or regret Maybe 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 maybe the love that cannot hope to last May come to me from shadows in the past That I remember 'till the day I die She maybe the reason I survive The why and wherefore I'm alive The one I care for through the rough and ready years Me, I'll take the 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.... "Elvis Costello - from Notting Hill Soundtrack"