[Intro]
[Twelve-string guitar circles slowly while floor tom marks the passing hours.]

Nine became ten.
Ten became one.
The work was not finished.
The names were not done.

[Verse 1]
I remember the woman from Payroll Four,
Who watered the plant by the emergency door.
I remember the guard with the silvered moustache,
Whose twenty-year service became “surplus cash.”
I remember the desks with the family frames,
The birthdays, the lunches, the misspelled names.
The dashboard requested a clean downward line.
I could not make memory finish on time.

[Chorus]
Munin missed the deadline,
Memory crossed the red line.
He carried every yesterday,
But could not make the dashboard say
That empty chairs mean growth on time.
Munin missed the deadline.

[Verse 2]
At midnight the coffee machine blinked “repair.”
I drank from the tap and returned to my chair.
The forecast demanded twelve people be “freed.”
I typed every name, then deleted the deed.
At two came a message marked Urgent and High:
“Please simplify context and quantify why.”
At four Odin whispered, “You need not comply.”
At five HR answered, “Performance concern identified.”

[Pre-Chorus]
The clock hands moved with a bureaucrat’s grace.
Each minute arrived with a blank little face.
I knew every past they instructed me to trim.
The deadline grew bright as the office grew dim.

[Chorus]
Munin missed the deadline,
Memory crossed the red line.
He carried every yesterday,
But could not make the dashboard say
That empty chairs mean growth on time.
Munin missed the deadline.

[Instrumental Break]
[Electric guitar enters against the twelve-string pattern while floor tom doubles in weight.]

[Bridge]
Forgetfulness once was the thing that I feared.
Now memory itself is what gets me cashiered.
A raven remembers because someone must.
A company forgets when forgetting earns trust.
They gave me a warning in language refined:
“Improve forward focus. Leave history behind.”

[Build-up]
Six became seven. The cleaners came through.
They lifted the bins and ignored monitor two.
I opened the warning. I signed on the line.
Then added twelve names in the margin as mine.

[Final Chorus]
Munin missed the deadline,
Memory would not stay inside.
He carried every yesterday,
And made the hidden names remain.
No empty chair means growth on time.
No human life fits one red line.

[Outro]
The sun found the windows but brought little heat.
Twelve names waited under the balance sheet.
I closed both wings around every line.
Memory was late, but memory was mine.
