The Rose
Bette Midler Nr.: 60
Some say love, it is a riverThat drowns the tender reedSome say love, it is a razorThat leaves your soul to bleed Some say love, it is a hungerAn endless aching needI say love, it is a flowerAnd you, its only seed It's the heart afraid of breakingThat never learns to danceIt's the dream afraid of wakingThat never takes the chance It's the one who won't be takingWho cannot seem to giveAnd the soul, afraid of dyingThat never learns to live When the night has been too lonelyAnd the road has been too longAnd you think that love is onlyFor the lucky and the strong Just remember in the winterFar beneath the bitter snowsLies the seed that with the sun's loveIn the spring becomes the rose
