Montag, 13. Juli 2015

The Rose

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, its 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 taking 
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

By Bette Midler

Keine Kommentare: