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 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 sould afraid of dyin' 

 that never learns to live. 

 When the night has been too 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 sun's love 

 in the spring becomes the rose.