[Intro]
[The circuit motif sounds in full orchestra while the ballroom waltz collapses into seven-beat guitar strikes.]

The chandeliers continue bright.
Every private screen goes black.
Masks turn upward toward the light.
Camera four replaces the act.

[Verse 1]
The anchor names the altered phrase,
The calls, the dates, the payment trails.
The reporter lifts the printed proof;
Rain drips from her coat onto the truth.
The server archive fills the screen:
Who bought the reach, who cut the scene,
Who changed the rules, who hid the claim,
Who worked behind a platform name.

[Pre-Chorus]
Every number has a name.
Every bargain leaves a frame.
Every ledger, every cut,
Leaves a body in the sum.

[Chorus]
Blood on the balance sheet, red beneath the gold,
Every life priced cheap, every truth sold.
Blood on the balance sheet--hear the chandeliers beat;
When the doors are opened wide, the street enters the suite.

[Verse 2]
The warehouse picker lifts her brace:
"This paid the music in this place."
The nurse steps forward with a list
Of coverage gaps and people missed.
The veteran sets his medals down:
"These do not decorate a crown."
The editor reeds the removed line:
"No office stands above the law."

[Guitar Solo]
[Lead guitar develops the circuit motif over alternating 7/8 and 4/4 while brass answers with the former inauguration theme in minor inversion.]

[Bridge]
[Character Voice - President]
You came without permission.

[Female Lead - Reporter]
We came with documented fact.

[Character Voice - Platform Owner]
You violate the system.

[Character Voice - Moderator]
We show how your system acts.

[Bridge]
[Character Voice - Network Chief]
You threaten public order.

[Male Lead - Anchor]
You edited order to your need.

[Female Lead - Warehouse Picker]
You call your border lawful
When it only guards the feed.

[Bridge]
[Male Lead - Veteran]
No throne is broken by a blade.
No person here becomes your prey.
We brought the record, names and dates.
The public now will judge the weight.

[Breakdown]
Open the books.
Open the door.
Answer the hands
That built your floor.

[Climax]
[The ballroom power fails; unamplified voices continue over floor toms and the acoustic orchestra.]

The chandeliers extinguish row by row.
No screen remains to curate the show.
A waiter opens the eastern door;
Rain crosses marble across the floor.

[Final Chorus]
Blood on the balance sheet, opened line by line,
Every hidden order shown, every private warning signed.
Blood on the balance sheet--the circuit skips a beat;
Power loses sacred dress when evidence enters the suite.

[Outro]
The orchestra resumes without a throne.
Cello, drum and human tone.
Three notes rise instead of fall.
The eastern door remains for all.