| F | C | | Some say | love, it is a | river, |
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| Bb | C | F | | That | drowns the | ten | der reed. |
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| F | C | | Some say | love, it is a | razor, |
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| Bb | C | F | | That | leaves your | soul | to bleed. |
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| Am | Dm | | Some say | love, it is a | hunger, |
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| Gm | C | | An | endless aching | need. |
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| F | C | | I say | love, it is a | flower, |
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| Bb | C | F | | And | you, its | only | seed. |
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| F | C | | It's the | heart afraid of | breaking, |
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| Bb | C | F | | That | never | learns | to dance. |
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| F | C | | It's the | dream afraid of | waking, |
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| Bb | C | F | | That | never | takes | the chance. |
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| Am | Dm | | It's the | one who won't be | taken, |
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| Gm | C | | Who | cannot seem to | give. |
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| F | C | | It's the | soul afraid of | waking, |
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| Bb | C | F | | That | never | learns to | live. |
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| F | C | | When the | night has been too | lonely, |
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| Bb | C | F | | And the | road has | been | too long, |
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| F | C | | And you | think that love is | only, |
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| Bb | C | F | | For the | lucky | and | the strong, |
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| Am | Dm | | Just re | member in the | winter, |
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| Gm | C | | Far be | neath the bitter | snow, |
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| F | C | | Lies the | seed that with the | sun's love, |
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| Bb | C | F | | In the | spring, be | comes the | rose. |
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