Elvis Costello - She

^CShe May be the face I can't f^Ebdimorget A trace of pleasure or regr^Fet May be my treasure or the pr^Cice I have to p^A7ay S^Dmhe may be the song that summer ^Fm6sings May be the chill that autumn b^Crings May be a hundred different t^Dm7hings Within the me^G7asure of a ^Cday. ^{F Dm7 G}

^CShe May be the beauty or the ^Ebdimbeast May be the famine or the f^Feast May turn each day into a h^Ceaven or a h^A7ell S^Dmhe may be the mirror of my dr^Fm6eams A smile reflected in a s^Ctream She may not be what she may s^D7eem In^G7side her s^Chell

^AbShe who always seems so happy in a c^Ebrowd Whose eyes can be so private and so pr^Dboud No one's allowed to see them when they c^Cry S^Fmhe may be the l^Bbove that cannot hope to ^Eblast May come to ^Cme from shadows of the p^D7ast That I'll remember till the day I d^Gie

^CShe May be the reason I su^Ebdimrvive The why and wherefore I'm al^Five The one I'll care for thr^Cough the rough and r^A7eady years ^DmMe I'll take her laughter and her ^Fm6tears And make them all my s^Couvenirs For where she goes I've got to ^D7be The meaning o^G7f my life is ^FShe, ^Cshe,^{Dm7 G7sus4} ohhhhh she ^C