Ed,
some say Love it is a river, That
drowns the tender reed. Some
say love it is a razor, That
leads your soul to bleed. Some
say love, It
is a hungry An
endless aching need. I
say Love it is a flower, And
you it's only seed. It's
the heart afraid of breaking That
never learns to dance. It's
the dream afraid of waking, That
never takes the chance. It's
the one who won't be taken Who
cannot seem to give. And
the soul afraid of dying That
never learns to live. And
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 snow. Lies
a seed that with suns love, in
the spring, becomes the rose. Ed,
you are my seed, And
together, as we shower the seed, With
our love, we will become the Rose.
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