The Rose
Bette Midler
Some say Clove, it is a Griver,
That Fdrowns the tenGder Creed
Some say Clove, it is a Grazor,
That Fleaves your Gsoul to Cbleed
Some say Emlove, it is a Amhunger,
An endFless Dm7aching Gneed
I say Clove, it is a Gflower and
FYou its Gonly Cseed
It's the Cheart afraid of breaGking
That Fnever leaGrns to Cdance
It's the Cdream afraid of wakGing
That Fnever takGes the Cchance
It's the Emone who won't be AmtakenAm7
Who Fcannot Dm7seem to Ggive
And the Csoul afraid of Gdying
That Fnever Glearns to Clive
When 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 strCong
Just Emremember in the Amwinter
Far Fbeneath the bitter GsnowGsus4
Lies the Cseed that with the Gsun's love,
In the Fspring becoGmes the Crose