THE ROSE
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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