sexta-feira, 20 de maio de 2011

O AMOR É LINDO

SHE
ELVIS COSTELLO  





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 
The 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 in 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

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