terça-feira, novembro 04, 2008
She
She
May be the face I can't forget
A 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 tearful things
Within the measure of the day.
(...)
She
May be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore 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've got to be
The meaning of my life is
She
Charles Aznavour (1974)
Imagem retirada da net
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