I am Starr. Starr-I-are. I'm a brilliant barri-star. I'm here to ask, as you'll soon see, Did you grope Miss Lew-in-sky? Did you grope her in your house? Did you grope beneath her blouse? Did she give you gifts and ties? Were you spied by prying eyes?

I did not do that here or there. I did not do that anywhere. I did not do that in a chair. I went not near her giant hair. I did not join, even for fun, The Mile High Club in Air Force 1. So stow your feathers and your tar, I did not do her, Starr-you-are.

Did you smile? Did you flirt? Did you peek beneath her skirt? Did you tell the girl to lie, When called upon to testify?

That is it; you've gone too far, I do not like you, Starr-you-are. I will not answer any more. In fact, I think I'll start a war. The public's easy to distract, When bombs are falling on Iraq.