[Intro]
[Instrumentation: prepared piano plays the opening song’s organ motif one octave higher]

[Verse 1]
The roof door sticks, then lets me through,
The city wears a washed-out blue.
Ambulance roofs hold beads of rain,
Trains draw silver past the cranes.
Below, the copied pages move
From hand to hand through every room.
No bells announce what has begun;
The morning simply meets the sun.

[Chorus]
Three seventeen in daylight,
The same small hour, a different sky.
Three seventeen in daylight—
No ceiling burning in my eyes.
The clock has not forgiven night,
But now its face is held in light.

[Verse 2]
June brings two coffees to the wall,
One tastes no better than before.
She says, “Go home. I’ll call by four.”
I say, “You said that hours ago.”
We laugh once, rough and out of tune,
Then sit beneath the colourless moon
Still fading from the western side—
A night refusing to decide.

[Chorus]
Three seventeen in daylight,
The same small hour, a different sky.
Three seventeen in daylight—
No ceiling burning in my eyes.
The clock has not forgiven night,
But now its face is held in light.

[Piano Interlude]
[Instrumentation: monitor motif alternates with the rhythm of the Paper Cup Communion melody]

[Verse 3]
At home I leave my shoes below,
The soles still marked by ward-room floors.
I place my badge beside the sink,
Then sleep before I start to think.
At three seventeen my phone lights blue;
A message waits from Nurse Amadou:
“Leo drew a window by his bed.
Gabriel’s name is still being spoken.”

[Bridge]
I do not call myself a saint.
I know the anger, fear and blame.
I know the times I could not stay,
The hands I missed, the words delayed.

[Second Bridge]
But holiness was never gold;
It was the truth we chose to hold.
Not suffering made clean or right—
Just no one left alone at night.

[Final Chorus]
Three seventeen in daylight,
The hour has crossed into the sky.
Three seventeen in daylight—
The hidden names are passing by.
The clock has not repaired the night,
Every door now bears the lines.

[Outro]
[Instrumentation: clean guitar and organ play the three-note motif without drums]

Tomorrow night the doors will sigh.
Blue gloves will snap beneath the light.
A paper cup will lose its heat.
New names will travel through the sheets.

But in the basement, on the stand,
The ledger rests in open hands.
And by the entrance, clear and white,
The names remain beneath the light.

Three seventeen.
The daylight stays.
