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Sister, where were you as the riot police commandeered 13th Avenue? We were harvested up like flies; they tossed their chemicals into our eyes. And now sufficiently blinded, we fell into our bindings anew. A year on trial. You've been kept mollified, and because privilege gives way to procedure every time, you have remained complicit with degradation and intolerance that will not be suspended unless we're defended tonight. A year on trial. Sister, you walk free, but ancient winter will render its judgement incrementally. I came of age in between two wars, both of them meaningless to the core, while, here, basest survival was all we could strive for, so I fought 'til I could fight no more. Until I was brought forward for a year on trial.