No Number for the Soul Verse 1 I told a man, “One number cannot Tell you what your blood has done, You have to read the whole horizon, Not one shadow from the sun. Autumn doesn't ask the calendar For permission to arrive, You know it by the colder wind, By leaves no longer holding life.” Pre-Chorus And somewhere in explaining him, A question turned around— If numbers cannot tell his story, How could mine be written down? Chorus There is no number for the soul, No scale to tell me who I am, No test that says I'm deeply broken, No line that proves I'm still a man Who knows the difference between loving And just being scared to be alone. I searched through every book of living— There is no number for the soul. Verse 2 Am I in love, or only longing? Am I fragile, am I strong? Is sadness just a passing season, Or the country I belong? I walked into my mind like jungles, Where a thousand creatures grew— Some were feeding me with meaning, Some were feeding upon me too. I sat beneath their tangled branches, With my notebook on my knees, Trying to classify existence Like a scientist classifies disease. Pre-Chorus But every answer changed its clothing Every time I wrote it down; The man I captured in the sentence Was already turning around. Chorus There is no number for the soul, No scale to tell me who I am, No test that says I'm deeply broken, No line that proves I'm still a man Who knows the difference between loving And just being scared to be alone. I searched through every book of living— There is no number for the soul. Verse 3 Maybe we are moving letters In a story without end, Changing meaning with the sentence, Changing shape with every friend. Maybe contradiction isn't failure, Maybe certainty's the lie; We are autumn mixed with summer, We are laughter learning how to cry. So I closed my book of answers, Left the final page unfilled, Walked again among the living, Unexplained and breathing still. I stopped demanding that existence Give a label to my name; For the river isn't less a river Because its waters never stay the same. Bridge Yet one truth waits beyond the questions, Patient as the falling night: Every candle born to darkness Spends itself to make some light. Every door that opens somewhere Will one day be closed again; Every “hello” carries quietly The distant heartbeat of “the end.” And perhaps that's why we hold each other When the final hour draws near— Not because death needs our sorrow, But because love leaves it here. Final Chorus There is no number for the soul, No final chart of what we are, We measure blood, we measure heartbeats, But never how we loved this far. I may never solve the question, I may never fully know Why I came or where I'm going, Or what I'm meant to leave below. There is no number for the soul, And maybe there was never meant to be; I don't need to solve existence To know that it is passing through me. Outro Autumn never asks the calendar When it's time to lose its leaves. And we never know the weight of living Until someone has to leave. So write no number by my name, No definition on my stone— Just say: He came. He wondered. He loved. He left... Unmeasured, and unknown.
