Bette Midler - The rose

^CSome say love^G it is a river That ^Fdrowns the ^Gtender ^Creed Some say ^Clove it is a^G razor That l^Feaves your ^Gsoul to ^Cbleed Some say ^Emlove it is a ^Amhunger An end^Fless acheing ^Gneed I say ^Clove it is a ^Gflower and ^FYou its ^Gonly ^Cseed ^CIt's the heart a^Gfraid of breaking That ^Fnever ^Glearns to ^Cdance It's the ^Cdream afraid o^Gf waking That ^Fnever ^Gtakes a ^Cchance It's the ^Emone who won't be t^Amaken Who ^Fcannot seem to ^Ggive And the ^Csoul afraid of ^Gdying ^FThat never ^Glearns to ^Clive ^CWhen the night has ^Gbeen too lonely And the r^Foad has ^Gbeen too ^Clong And you f^Ceel that love i^Gs only For the l^Fucky ^Gand the ^Cstrong Just ^Emremember in the ^Amwinter Far be^Fneath the bitter ^Gsnow Lies the ^Cseed that with the ^Gsun's love In the ^Fspring ^Gbecomes the ^Crose