Some say love, it is a river,
that drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razzor,
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 the chance,
It's the one, who wont be taken,
who can , not seem to give,
And the soul , afriad of dieing,
that never learns to live .
And the night has left to lonely,
and the road, has been to long.
And you feel , that love is only,
for the lucky , and the strong.
Just remember , in the winter,
far beneith , the bitter snow.
Lies a seed , that with the suns love,
in the spring, becomes a rose.
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