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.