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 its 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 won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give.
And the soul, afraid of dyin',
that never learns to live.

When 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 benaeth the
bitter snows,
Lies the seed, that with
the sun's love,
in the spring becomes
The Rose.