Channel Nine

[Intro]
Channel nine, stay where you are
We have a message for the men in charge

[Verse 1]
Black cloth, red thread, cut through the rain
Your driver’s gone; your phone says no name
A paper crown on the boardroom chair
You signed the orders; now answer us there

[Pre-Chorus]
We know the doors you lock at night
We know whose hands kept out of sight
Look in the lens; don’t look away
You get one minute to hear what we say

[Chorus]
You can’t bury every name
You can’t buy your way out clean
We are the girls behind the masks
And we’ve seen what you have seen
When the evening program breaks
When our warning fills the screen
Give back what you stole from us
Or we’ll make the truth convene

[Verse 2]
A camera rolls in a borrowed room
You read your statement beneath a bare bulb
No bruises shown, no hero’s pose
Just dates and signatures nobody knows

[Pre-Chorus]
The mayor smiles; the contracts stay
The papers print what you all pay
Look in the lens; don’t look away
This is the part you cannot edit away

[Chorus]
You can’t bury every name
You can’t buy your way out clean
We are the girls behind the masks
And we’ve seen what you have seen
When the evening program breaks
When our warning fills the screen
Give back what you stole from us
Or we’ll make the truth convene

[Bridge]
To the offices with locked back doors
To the ones who count us as a rumor
We know the cost of making noise
We know the risk of being younger
No crown, no flag, no perfect plan
Just shaking hands and borrowed cameras
If you won’t answer to the law
Then answer now, in front of everyone

[Final Chorus]
You can’t bury every name
You can’t buy your way out clean
We are the girls behind the masks
And we’ve seen what you have seen
When the evening program breaks
When our warning fills the screen
Give back what you stole from us
Let the whole town hear the truth
Let the whole town hear the truth

[Outro]
Channel nine, we’re signing off
The record stays; the signal’s gone

Theatrical dark pop-rock with a teen girl group, punchy live drums and distorted bass, clipped palm-muted guitar in the verses, tense low synth pulses, and a wide gang-vocal chorus. Open with a camera-click percussion motif and close harmonies; verses stay tight and conspiratorial, pre-chorus climbs with rising toms, chorus breaks into forceful stacked vocals, then a half-time bridge framed like a hijacked broadcast before a final doubled chorus. Bright, urgent lead vocals with youthful harmonies, crisp modern production, cinematic but raw-edged.