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. |