[Intro]
[One desk stamp, one floor-tom strike and a blunt piano chord begin the confrontation.]

[Verse 1 - Anubis, deep male baritone]
They gathered at eight in the conference room,
While damp black marks crossed the corridor gloom.
The manager set my file on the desk,
Neat as a knife in a paper vest.
“Unauthorized rite. Unrecorded fee.
Damage to tile, liability.
You falsified payment and breached our trust.”
I said, “A soul was waiting. I did what I must.”

[Pre-Chorus - Anubis, deep male baritone]
He leaned back slow in his leather chair:
“We can waive ten percent as compassionate care.”
I heard the river beneath his brief—
You cannot mark down grief.

[Chorus - Anubis, deep male baritone]
There is no discount on grief,
No coupon code for relief.
No clearance price on a final belief,
There is no discount on grief.
Charge for the coffin, the room and the wreath—
But you cannot own what the mourners bequeath.

[Verse 2 - Anubis, deep male baritone]
Susan stared at the water stain;
The salesman joked about burst-main rain.
I placed my name tag beside the phone,
Then set the gold pin on top like a throne.
“You can leave,” said the manager. “Today.”
I took the pin and left Drew’s name.
At the front desk Mara stood in black,
Holding Elias’s coat in a garment sack.

[Pre-Chorus - Anubis, deep male baritone]
She said, “They called about what I owe.”
I tore the invoice straight and slow.
The halves fell down like paper leaves—
No invoice owns what sorrow leaves.

[Chorus - Anubis, deep male baritone]
There is no discount on grief,
No coupon code for relief.
No clearance price on a final belief,
There is no discount on grief.
Charge for the hearse, the room and the wreath—
But you cannot own what the mourners bequeath.

[Instrumental Break]
[Piano and floor tom repeat a hard four-beat figure while the sistrum cuts across every second bar.]

[Bridge - Anubis, deep male baritone]
A discount means the price was true,
Then mercy shaved a point or two.
But grief began before your chart,
Before your form divided heart from heart.
The poor do not receive less grief.

[Breakdown - Anubis, deep male baritone]
“Turn in the key.”
I set it down.
“Leave the grounds.”
I looked around.
The river knocked beneath their feet.
Every dead name stirred in the heat.

[Buildup - Anubis, deep male baritone]
I took Mara’s arm.
I took Elias’s coat.
I took the truth from his hidden note.
Outside, the highway shook the gate—
Inside, the folders changed their weight.

[Final Chorus - Anubis, deep male baritone]
There is no discount on grief,
No manager grants relief.
No final sale makes mourning brief,
There is no discount on grief.
Keep your percentages, polished and brief—
I’ll guard the dead without your belief.

[Outro - Anubis, deep male baritone]
The glass doors lock behind my back.
In the basement,
The folders crack.
