Some Say love, It is A river,
That drowns the tender reed.
Some Say love, Ít is a Razor,
That leaves your sool to bleed.
Some Say love, it is a Hunger,
An endless acing need....
I Say love , it is a flower,
And you it`s only seed.
Its the heart afraid of breaking,
That never learns to dance..
Its the dream afraid of waking,
That never takes the change..
Its the one who won`t be taken,
who cannot seems to give...
And the sool afraid of dying,
That never learns to live.
When the Night has been to lonely..
And the Road has been to 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*
(Bette midler).

mooi!