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
and end less 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 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

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