[Intro]
The clerk checks every numbered page.
The producer checks the camera gauge.
One room records what can be proved.
One room decides how it will move.

[Verse 1]
I sharpen pencils, stack the files,
Count measured words and courtroom aisles.
No anthem plays. No red lights glow.
The record moves deliberate and slow.
A witness breathes, then states a name.
The wooden hammer marks the frame.
Outside, the satellite trucks ignite;
Their rooftop dishes drink the night.

[Chorus]
Trial by television, verdict cut to fit,
A hammer strikes the measure, but the sponsors never quit.
Trial by television, justice in a frame,
The court reads out the record; the screen edits the name.
One room weighs the evidence and time.
One sells the pause before the crime.

[Verse 2]
I cue the graphic, trim the feed,
Ask which expression viewers need.
The careful phrase is eight beats long;
The angry clip becomes the song.
We sell the hallway, sell the stare,
The motorcade, the empty chair.
When ratings spike, the control room cheers.
I turn their verdict into souvenirs.

[Duet: Clerk & Producer]
[Clerk]
You cut the oath before the end.
[Producer]
The audience will not attend.
[Clerk]
You show the fury, hide the file.
[Producer]
The fury keeps them here awhile.
[Clerk]
A court is more than face and name.
[Producer]
A screen must feed the waiting flame.

[Chorus]
Trial by television, verdict cut to fit,
A hammer strikes the measure, but the sponsors never quit.
Trial by television, justice in a frame,
The court reads out the record; the screen edits the name.
One room weighs the evidence and time.
One sells the pause before the crime.

[Instrumental: grand piano legal cadence, wooden hammer strikes, low guitar]

[Bridge]
The clerk brings down one final sheet.
The producer watches from the street.
“No lens can make the finding clean.
No cut can change what words can mean.”

[Build-up]
No breaking banner. No flashing red.
The full dry sentence runs instead.
No face enlarged, no music played—
Only the record, unafraid.

[Final Chorus]
No more trial by television, no verdict cut to fit.
Let the hammer strike the measure; let the whole truth answer it.
No more trial by television, justice sold by name.
The court must hold the record while the screen accepts its shame.
One room weighs the evidence and time.
One choice refuses to package crime.

[Outro]
The clerk closes every numbered file.
The producer leaves the feed untouched awhile.