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The Rose |
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Some say love, it is a river |
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that drowns the tender reed. |
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Some say love, it is a razor |
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that leaves your soul to bleed. |
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Some say love, it is a hunger, |
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an endless aching need. |
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I say love, it is a flower, |
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and you its only seed. |
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It's the heart afraid of breaking |
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that never learns to dance. |
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It's the dream afraid of waking |
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that never takes the chance. |
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It's the one who won't be taken, |
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who cannot seem to give, |
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And the soul afraid of dyin' |
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that never learns to live. |
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When the night has been too lonely |
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And the road has been to long |
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And you think that love is only |
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For the lucky and the strong |
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Just remember in the winter |
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Far beneath the bitter snows |
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Lies the seed that with the sun's love |
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In the spring becomes the rose. |
