Leann Rimes - The rose

Some say ^Clove, it is a ^Griver, that ^Fdrowns the ^Gtender re ^Ced. Some say ^Clove, it is a ^Grazor, that ^Fleads your ^Gsoul to ble ^Ced. Some say ^Emlove it is a hung^Am7er, and en^Fdless aching ne^Ged. I say ^Clove, it is a ^Gflower and ^Fyou its only ^Cseed.

It's the ^Cheart afraid of ^Gbreaking that ^Fnever ^Glearns to ^Cdance. It's the ^Cdream afraid of ^Gwaking that ^Fnever ^Gtakes a ^Cchance. It's the ^Emone who won't be ^Am7taken who ^Fcannot seem to ^Ggive And the ^Csoul afraid of ^Gdying that ^Fnever ^Glearns to ^Clive.

And the ^Cnight has been too ^Glonely and the ^Froad has ^Gbeen too ^Clong. And you ^Cthink that love is ^Gonly for the ^Flucky ^Gand the ^Cstrong. Just re ^Emmember in the ^Am7winter for ben ^Feath the bitter ^Gsnow Lies the ^Cseed that with the ^Gsun's love, in the ^Fspring ^Gbecomes the ^Crose.