Nana Mouskouri - 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.

It''''s the heart afraid of breakin''''

That never learns to dance.

It''''s the dream afraid of wakin''''

That never takes the chance.

It''''s the one who won''''t be taken

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.



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.

It''''s the heart afraid of breakin''''

That never learns to dance.

It''''s the dream afraid of wakin''''

That never takes the chance.

It''''s the one who won''''t be taken

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.

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