VERSE 1 (barely above a whisper)

Intimate opening with minimal piano quickly undercut by a low, steady drum pulse that grows heavier as the song progresses, like a march forming behind a single voice; tempo slow but grounded in percussive hits that punctuate key phrases with sharp impact; as additional voices join, harmonies should feel less fragile and more resolute, layered over driving bass and restrained but powerful drum strikes; dynamics swell into a controlled, protest-style crescendo where dignity and fury coexist, ending not in collapse but in unshakeable refusal; overall tone is raw, defiant, and rhythmically anchored — transforming imposed shame into collective resistance.

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Lyrics

VERSE 1 (barely above a whisper) If mercy lives in heaven Why does it not live here? If love is written holy Why does it disappear? If hands are meant for blessing Why do they strike in prayer? If God is in this building— He is not Down here. ⸻ (Soft piano enters, sparse.) ⸻ VERSE 2 They say He sees our suffering. They say He knows our shame. They say He hears confession But never says my name. They say He counts the sparrows. They say He marks each tear. If that is true, then tell me— Why is He not here? ⸻ PRE-CHORUS (breath trembling but controlled) I searched between the rafters. I searched inside the hymn. I searched inside the silence And found no trace of Him. ⸻ CHORUS (first lift — not shouted, but firm) There’s no God here In the bleach and the stone. There’s no God here In the cold we’ve known. If this is holy Then heaven is wrong. Because no loving God Would leave us this long. ⸻ (A faint choral hum enters behind her — other girls listening.) ⸻ VERSE 3 (stronger) If God is only present When we obey and bend, If God belongs to power And not the broken friend— Then keep Him in your chapel. Keep Him in your fear. Because whatever love is— It isn’t here. ⸻ (Nuns attempt to begin a hymn quietly in the background.) ⸻ BUILD (ensemble girls begin softly echoing) Not here. Not here. Not in the dark. Not in the bruises. Not in the mark. ⸻ FINAL CHORUS (fuller, but dignified) There’s no God here In the locked back door. There’s no God here In the counting of our score. If faith means silence If grace means pain— Then we will find Our own Name. ⸻ (Music drops back.) ⸻ BUTTON (soft, resolute) If God is love— Then love is not afraid.