[Intro – soft atmospheric pads, distant hum, slow build] There’s a love that asks for nothing, No return address, no receipt. It just burns quietly In the marrow of our feet. [Verse 1 – gentle, intimate vocal, steady pulse] I’ve seen it in strangers on midnight trains, Eyes full of weather, hands full of change, They carry no gold, no kingdom, no name, Yet something inside them refuses to fade. Not the love that bargains, Not the kind that trades, But the love that lingers When the lights have decayed. It doesn’t need witness, It doesn’t demand proof, It blooms in the silence Like roots under roof. [Pre-Chorus – rising warmth, layered harmonies] What if it’s older than memory? What if it’s stitched in our skin? A compass that doesn’t point outward But quietly pulls us within. [Chorus – emotional swell, open vocal, timeless feeling] It’s the proof of the soul, A fire with no goal, A love that exists Even when we’re alone. No promise to claim, No fortune, no throne, Just hearts recognizing They’re never unknown. Drifters and dreamers, Vagabonds under the sky, Starcatchers reaching For reasons they can’t justify. [Verse 2 – slightly stronger rhythm, hopeful lift] You see it in hands that build without praise, In songs that are sung though nobody stays, In eyes that still soften after long days, In kindness that survives its own decay. A love for the ocean That never says thanks, A love for the mountains That owes us no rank. A love for a stranger Whose story we’ll miss, Yet something inside us Still leans into this. [Bridge – softer, almost whispered, slow heartbeat percussion] Maybe we wander To recognize light, Maybe we’re fragments Of one ancient sight. Unknown drifters Passing in rain, Yet something eternal Is calling our names. [Final Chorus – full instrumentation, layered vocals, expansive] It’s the proof of the soul, Not bought, not controlled, A love without profit More precious than gold. No map, no design, Still perfectly aligned, Like constellations We didn’t assign. Vagabonds breathing The same unseen flame, Starcatchers whispering We are the same. [Outro – stripped back, fading echo] It asks for nothing. It gives everything. And somehow… That is enough.
