Original lyrics by
Charles Aznavour and Herbert Kretzmer (1974)
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 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
Few songs can truly be called impassioned.
Yeah, sure, they are very passionate;
sexy, yes; gooey and all emotion-y, absolutely.
But very few take that final step to truly impassioned.
This one does.
I loved it way back in 1974,
but Elvis Costello raises it to new heights.
It's the perfect soundtrack to the end of Notting Hill,
one of my very favorite, if not my certain number one,
Digital Art: The Love That Will Last Forever by yours truly