Amanda McBroom - The rose

Some say l^Dove it is a r^Aiver That d^Grownes the tender r^Deed Some say l^Dove, it is a r^Aazor That le^Gaves your soul to b^Dleed Some say l^Bmove, it is a h^Emunger An en^Gdless aking n^Aeed I say l^Dove, it is a fl^Aower And y^Gou it's only s^Deed

It's the h^Deard afraid of bre^Aaking That n^Gever learns to da^Dnce It's the dr^Deam afraid of wa^Aking That n^Gever takes the ch^Dance It's the o^Bmne who won't be t^Emaken Who c^Gan not seem to g^Aive And the s^Doul afraid of d^Aying That n^Gever learns to le^Dave

When the n^Dight has been too lo^Anly And the r^Goad has been too l^Dong And you th^Dink, that love is o^Anly For the lu^Gcky and the str^Dong Just re^Bmmember in the ^Emwinter Far be^Gneath the bed of s^Anow (bitter snow) Lies the s^Deed, that with the s^Aun's love In the sp^Gring becomes the r^Dose