She

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

~~She, Elvis Costello



memories lasts,
dreams ends,
and death came upon.

Fragrance, again

La lettre à Leagan

So, maybe its better this way,
in a winding road; in the last days,
all I can do is running away,
search for something else afar,
unwind a broken dream in heart,
'cause nothing more can make you stay.

So, maybe its better this way,
another twist, another turn,
will make all of this go astray,
for no one believed I could succeed,
the lost, my dear, too painful to repeat,
'cause nothing more can make you stay.

So, maybe its better this way,
a moment of glance, a whisper of goodbye,
leave the dreams and make it fade,
for this memories are everything to me,
so let happiness may fate bring to thee,
'cause nothing more can make you stay.

~J.Wong, La lettre à Leagan










In another time, in another space,
maybe we can find a happier place