We've lost heroes to Paris and we've crowned tyrants to rob the roost while we foul the place with our own waste. Me? I can't tell a fiddle from a violin and to make matters worse, I don't care. If you find a blonde hair on my lapel or lipstick on my collar, let me know. I've run out of stories.
Some of us don't like know-it-alls. We're the ones who don't know much.
Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.