The Rose

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Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender re ed.
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Some say love, it is a razor, that leads your soul to ble ed.
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Some say love it is a hunger, and endless aching need.
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I say love, it is a flower and you its only seed.

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It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance.
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It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes a chance.
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It's the one who won't be taken who cannot seem to give
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And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live.

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And the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long.
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And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong.
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Just re member in the winter for ben eath the bitter snow
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Lies the seed that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes the rose.