Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed /
Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your heart 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 taken, who cannot seem to give /
And the soul afraid of dying 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 snow /
Lies the seed that with the sun's love; in the spring, becomes /
The Rose.

The Rose Copyright Bette Midler, All Rights Reserved.