Thursday, February 26, 2009

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 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 the chance
IT's the one who wont be taken
Who cannot seem to give
It's the soul afraid of dying
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 strong
Just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snow,

Lies the seed,
that with the sun's love,
in the spring,
becomes the rose.

made famous by bette midler

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