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THE ROSE
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THE ROSE

 

Bette Midler

 

Some say [G] love, it is a [D] river, that [C] drowns, the tender [G] reed.

Some say [G] love, it is a [D] razor, that [C] leaves, your soul to [G] bleed.

Some say [D] love, it is a [C] hunger, an [Am] endless, aching [D] need.

But I say [G] love, it is a [D] flower, and [C] you're, it's only [G] seed.

 

It's the [G] heart, afraid of [D] breaking, that [C] never, learns to [G] dance.

It's the [G] dream, afraid of [D] waking, that [C] never, takes the [G] chance.

It's the [D] one, who won't be [C] taken, that [Am] cannot, seem to [D] give.

And the [G] soul, afraid of [D] dying, that [C] never, learns to [G] live.

 

When the [G] night, has been too [D] lonely, and the [C] road, has been too [G] long,

And you [G] think, that love is [D] only, for the [C] lucky, and the [G] strong,

Just re-[D]-member, in the [C] winter, far [Am] beneath, the bitter [D] snow,

Lies a [G] seed, that with the [D] sun's love, in the [C] spring, becomes the [G] rose.

 

 

 

 

 

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