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Some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed
Everyone
When 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
Peter
Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed
that with the sun's love
in the spring
becomes the rose
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