Ladies and Gentlemen of the court
I bring your attention to our miscellaneous thoughts
Of murder, that we’ve so tirelessly fought
To find a verdict for Singh and Rao.

Now let us get these precious facts straight
Which have been carefully crafted for the magistrate
Supreme. Let me use you as bait
To hook whatever sanity you have left.

The innocent Joe was a young engineer
Been together with Singh for a couple of years
Such a shame that he couldn’t hear
The cries of a nearby mountaineer
Screaming AVALANCHNE! in his ear
Soon Joe would disappear
Why, exactly, remains a mere
Mystery. It’s still unclear
One can’t help but shed a tear
For the story that unfolds.

Studying law at the ANU
Singh and Rao were well to do
Standing strong like green bamboo
But you don’t know what’s going on inside.

Singh started ingesting ipecac
Binging, purging like a maniac
Frantically worried about her back-
Side being way too fat
A perfect solution for a hypochondriac
Surprised she didn’t go into cardiac
Arrest. Welcome to the black
Market. How may I help you?

Researching methods of suicide
Jumping, hanging, cyanide
Making no attempt to slide
Away the knife and hide
The plans to snuff herself out.

Singh got everyone to believe
That she was dying from Hades’
Plague; an arcane disease
Which gave her the wicked chance to conceive
The idea to take Joe, too.

The crime committed in the ACT
Began with a couple of dinner parties
Enticed by suicide and mystery
Come along! You know it’s free
Bring a friend or two or three
To Singh and Joe’s on Antill Street
And help them celebrate their ‘not to be’
Make it a fun and lovely
Swan song. Then watch them slowly
Walk out into that deadly sea
Don’t you tell Joe! Singh spiked his tea
All we want is to have a good time.

In the desolate morning after the second
Party, our innocent Joe casts his final expression
The shock and horror of unlawful oppression
Delivered from Singh in her trance of depression
Through a lethal dose of tainted heroin
Later identified as the primary weapon
That opened the gates of the stairway to heaven
In a crime so vile it would shake a nation
To its bones. Are there any questions
About this twisted moral lesson?
Or have you been given the wrong impression
That this was an act of narcissistic aggression
How does your mind work?

You say Singh purposely withheld the address
From the operator in the emergency service
Perhaps in an effort to digress
And prevent that life-saving ambulance
From reaching that bloodied, queen-size mattress
Where Joe finally died. Unless
We ignore the ignorance of the press
Who make it their work to suppress
The infectious truth of real justice
Wouldn’t you find a little distress
Being thrown into an irreversible process
And seeing one die in such a mess
No other choice than to acquiesce
To another’s murder. Please, God bless
She will find the courage to plead duress
To that hidden monster living like Ness
In the holes of her soul.