Peter: 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.