“Gentlemen of the jury, here I bring you now
A man charged with murder; a fair trial he was allowed
There is no doubt he is guilty, but I won’t jump the gun, won’t accuse
I will just give you the facts, what happened, the info, the news.
This happened last week, and the magnitude is great
The error of his ways he will soon carry, feeling the burden of its weight
This man before us, with his hood on and head down
His ambiance is eerie; since he’s been here he has not made a sound
Gentlemen of the jury, this is what I have found
On Columbus circle, where Donald Trump’s hotel has its renown
Up in room 82, it is a sight for sore eyes
Where a lovely young girl met her demise
No one was awake, and no one was passing by.
For it was far too early in the morning, maybe around four or five.
It’s saddening to think that maybe things could have changed
If someone was walking the halls, maybe a maid cleaning a stain
Gentlemen of the jury, the room was immoral and obscene
There was blood from the bathroom to the kitchen, and everywhere in between
Sheets torn, glass broken, cloths and possessions thrown around
Severed limbs on the floor, it left me confound
Now here is where things get unsettling, our information seemed deceiving
There was no evidence of him even being there. Not even the cameras caught him entering or leaving
How did we find him is a question you might ask.
The answer is simple, and we found him fairly fast
Gentlemen of the jury, where we went to was her family
We asked if they had any information that will help is us with this tragedy.
They told us she has a psycho boyfriend who lived near central park west
So we went there with cops, some of NYPD’s best
We broke down his door and there he was, sitting in front of her pictures
And right next to him was the gloves and knife, still bloody, ironically resting upon an open bible scripture
So we cuffed him, told him his rights, and there is nothing more to say
And that brings us back now, to where we are today
Gentlemen of the jury, I hope you have heard me well
I think I know where your decisions are headed, but only time will tell
Still bewilderingly quiet, I will ask the defendant one thing before I conclude.
Do you oppose anything I have said, and speak up, don’t be rude”
At last the man had looked up, his eyes they screamed one word, hostile
His stare was cold and he looked at the plaintiff with a dark and creepy smile
The room was silent with suspense and the plaintiff looked vexed
Then the man with the hood finally said, “No, but somebody is going to be next”