The Rose by Bette Middler |
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 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 beneath the bitter snows, |
Lies the seed, that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes The Rose. |