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Vinátta og trú.
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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 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 a 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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