STOLEN.
It’s not stolen, I made it myself. MEANIE.
Yes it is, that’s my song, I even put a copyright on it. Shame on you for thinking you could get away with my masterpiece.
Shame on you for thinking that I would steal such a CRAPPY SONG.
Heh, you’re so bad at lying. I can see right through you. And anyway, “crappy songs” don’t win the “Muselline best song of the year” award.
That’s why it didn’t. And looking at your computer screen helps when making a song.
Aha, so you admit it’s my song? 
Knew you’d give in eventually.
Well why would I admit about making a crappy song? Sure, you can keep it. I can hear more pleasant sounds in a group of dogs trying to dig a hole in a blackboard.
But that’s what you just did.
So you admit it’s crappy?
Well now that I’ve given it to you it’s as crappy as crappy can be.
You’re crappy as crappy can be.
Don’t change the subject.
Why would you have given the song to me if it wasn’t crappy or stolen?
I wasn’t changing the subject. We were talking about crap stuff so I thought I’d mention you.
Heh you avoided my question. You know I made the song and you don’t want to admit it.
I wasn’t avoiding the question, I just needed to go to the toilet.
And the song was mine, and to avoid you pestering me a gave it to you. I already said it was a crappy song. Didn’t I make that clear?
More like you needed to ask for a professional to word your answer.
Heh, you avoided my question. I’m not proud of the song, but you are, which tells me how good you are at judging.
Shut up, Anthony.