Lyrics
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud, she may be the beauty or the beast
that i remember till the day i die
she may be the beauty or the beast
the meaning of my life is
No one s allowed to see them when they cry, she maybe the love that cannot hope to last, and make them all my souvenirs
whose eyes can be so private and so proud
I ll take the laughter and your tears, and make them all my souvenirs
And make them all my souvenirs, within the measure of a day Aznavour, she may be the beauty or the beast
she may be the face i can t forget
She may be the beauty or the beast, she may be the song that summer sings She, the meaning of my life is
no one s allowed to see them when they cry
She maybe the love that cannot hope to last, whose eyes can be so private and so proud
I ll take the laughter and your tears, she may be the face i can t forget, and make them all my souvenirs
maybe the famine or the feast
Within the measure of a day, and when she goes i ve got to be
The meaning of my life is, the trace of pleasure or regret Aznavour, i ll take the laughter and your tears
The one i care for through the rough and ready years, may come to leap from shadows in the past, she may be the mirror of my dreams
Within the measure of a day, she maybe the reason i survive
She maybe the reason i survive, maybe the famine or the feast Aznavour, that i remember till the day i die
the trace of pleasure or regret
the meaning of my life is
No one s allowed to see them when they cry, the meaning of my life is
maybe my treasure or the price i have to pay
maybe a hundred different things
Maybe the famine or the feast, no one s allowed to see them when they cry Charles, she may be the beauty or the beast
Maybe the children autumn brings, she maybe the reason i survive
may come to leap from shadows in the past
she may be the song that summer sings
That i remember till the day i die, maybe my treasure or the price i have to pay, maybe a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day, inside her shell
She may be the mirror of my dreams, she may be the mirror of my dreams Aznavour, maybe a hundred different things
and when she goes i ve got to be
the why and wherefore kind of life
the one i care for through the rough and ready years
I ll take the laughter and your tears, the one i care for through the rough and ready years, whose eyes can be so private and so proud
the one i care for through the rough and ready years
The trace of pleasure or regret, maybe the children autumn brings, she may be the mirror of my dreams