the rose
Some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razer
that leaves your soul to blead
Some say love it is a hunger
an endless aching need
I say love it is a flower
and you it's only seed
Just remember in the winterfar beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed
that with the sun's love
in the spring
becomes the rose
åhhh sååå tjusigt!