The Rose
The Rose
Some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love it is a razor
that leaves the 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 a chance.
It's the one who can't be taken
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dying
that never learns to live.
When the night has been to lonely
and the road has been to long
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter,
far beneath the bitter snows,
lies the seed that with the suns love
in the spring becomes the rose.
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