Lyrics Выход невесты - She
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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 beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into 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 a 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 can and hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I remember till the day I die
She
May be the reason I survive
The why and where for 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 got to be
The meaning of my life is
She, she, she
Она может стать моим самым незабываемым
воспоминанием,
Сладким или горьким,
Может стать моим сокровищем или ценой,
которую мне придется заплатить
Она ласковая, как летнее солнышко
Или холодная, как осенний ветер,
Она меняется сто раз на дню
Она может быть красавицей или чудовищем,
Праздником на всю жизнь или призрачным
счастьем,
Может превратить любой день в ад или рай,
Она, может быть, отражение моей мечты,
Или смутной улыбки в воде,
Она, может, совсем не такая, какой
кажется внутри своей раковины
Она любит только то, что хорошо знает,
Ее глаза могут сверкать, как звезды,
и вдруг стать чернее ночи,
Ее слез никому не позволено видеть,
Она может быть безнадежной любовью,
Появляться и исчезать среди
теней прошлого
Но я буду помнить ее до своего
последнего дня
В ней, может быть, скрыта причина,
по которой я все еще живу,
Она - ответ на все "зачем?" и
"почему?" и откровенная ложь,
Она - единственное, что меня
интересует в трудные времена,
Я, ее смех и слезы
Станут моими сувенирами,
Потому что мне нужно быть там,
где она,
В ней смысл моей жизни
Она…
Она.
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 beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into 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 a 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 can and hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I remember till the day I die
She
May be the reason I survive
The why and where for 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 got to be
The meaning of my life is
She, she, she
Она может стать моим самым незабываемым
воспоминанием,
Сладким или горьким,
Может стать моим сокровищем или ценой,
которую мне придется заплатить
Она ласковая, как летнее солнышко
Или холодная, как осенний ветер,
Она меняется сто раз на дню
Она может быть красавицей или чудовищем,
Праздником на всю жизнь или призрачным
счастьем,
Может превратить любой день в ад или рай,
Она, может быть, отражение моей мечты,
Или смутной улыбки в воде,
Она, может, совсем не такая, какой
кажется внутри своей раковины
Она любит только то, что хорошо знает,
Ее глаза могут сверкать, как звезды,
и вдруг стать чернее ночи,
Ее слез никому не позволено видеть,
Она может быть безнадежной любовью,
Появляться и исчезать среди
теней прошлого
Но я буду помнить ее до своего
последнего дня
В ней, может быть, скрыта причина,
по которой я все еще живу,
Она - ответ на все "зачем?" и
"почему?" и откровенная ложь,
Она - единственное, что меня
интересует в трудные времена,
Я, ее смех и слезы
Станут моими сувенирами,
Потому что мне нужно быть там,
где она,
В ней смысл моей жизни
Она…
Она.
She
May be the face I can't forget
A trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price
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 beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into 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 a shell
She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private
They cry
She may be
May come to me from shadows of the past
I die
She
May be the reason I survive
Why I’m alive
Rainy years
I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I got to be
The meaning of my life is
She, she, she
She can be my most memorable
a memory
Sweet or bitter
May be my treasure or price
which I have to pay
She is affectionate as the summer sun
Or cold as the autumn wind,
It changes a hundred times a day.
She can be a beauty or a monster,
A feast of a lifetime or ghostly
by happiness
Can turn any day into hell or heaven,
She may be a reflection of my dream,
Or a vague smile in the water,
She may not be the same.
it seems inside its shell
She loves only what she knows well
Her eyes can sparkle like stars
and suddenly become blacker than night
Her tears are not allowed to anyone
She may be a hopeless love,
Appear and disappear among
the shadows of the past
But I will remember her before my
the last day
There may be a reason behind it
by which i still live
She is the answer to everything & quot; why? & Quot; and
& quot; why? & quot; and outright lies
She is the only thing that me
interested in hard times
I, her laughter and tears
Will become my souvenirs,
Because I need to be there,
where is she,
It has the meaning of my life
She is…
She is.
May be the face I can't forget
A trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price
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 beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into 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 a shell
She who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private
They cry
She may be
May come to me from shadows of the past
I die
She
May be the reason I survive
Why I’m alive
Rainy years
I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I got to be
The meaning of my life is
She, she, she
She can be my most memorable
a memory
Sweet or bitter
May be my treasure or price
which I have to pay
She is affectionate as the summer sun
Or cold as the autumn wind,
It changes a hundred times a day.
She can be a beauty or a monster,
A feast of a lifetime or ghostly
by happiness
Can turn any day into hell or heaven,
She may be a reflection of my dream,
Or a vague smile in the water,
She may not be the same.
it seems inside its shell
She loves only what she knows well
Her eyes can sparkle like stars
and suddenly become blacker than night
Her tears are not allowed to anyone
She may be a hopeless love,
Appear and disappear among
the shadows of the past
But I will remember her before my
the last day
There may be a reason behind it
by which i still live
She is the answer to everything & quot; why? & Quot; and
& quot; why? & quot; and outright lies
She is the only thing that me
interested in hard times
I, her laughter and tears
Will become my souvenirs,
Because I need to be there,
where is she,
It has the meaning of my life
She is…
She is.