The Rose

Some say love it is a river
That drowns the tender reed. 

Some say love it is a razor 
That leaves your soul to bleed.

Some say love it is a hunger
An endless, aching need 

I say love it is a flower, 
And you it's only seed.

It's the heart afraid of breaking 
That never learns to dance 

It's the dream afraid of waking 
That never takes the chance

It's the one who won't be taken, 
Who cannot seem to give

And the soul afraid of dying 
That never learns to live.

And the night has been too lonely 
And the road has been too long. 

And you think that love is only 
For the lucky and the strong.

Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow

Lies the seed that with the sun's love,
In the spring, 

Becomes a rose.

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