Cleverbot: I think you've got the wrong idea about my role here.
User: What is your role here?
Cleverbot: To amuse you.
User: Just a small town girl.
Cleverbot: Livin in a lonely world.
User: Takin the midnight train.
Cleverbot: Going.
User: ANYWHERRRRRRRRRE.
Cleverbot: Street lights.
User: People.
Cleverbot: What other songs do you know?
User: You don't even know that one, let's start again.
Cleverbot: I am not machine.
User: Just a small town girl.
Cleverbot: Living in a lonely world.
User: Taking the midnight traing going anywhere.
Cleverbot: Just a city boy.
User: Born and raised in south detroit.
Cleverbot: He took the midnight train going anywhere.
User: A singer in a smokey room.
Cleverbot: The smell of wine and cheap perfume.
User: For a smile they can share the night.
Cleverbot: It goes on and on and on and on.
User: Strangers, waiting, up and down the boulevard.
Cleverbot: Their shadows searching in the night.
User: Streelights people, living just to find emotion.
Cleverbot: Hiding somewhere in the niiight.
User: Working hard to get my fill.
Cleverbot: Everybody wants a thrill.
User: Payin anything to roll the dice.
Cleverbot: Just one more time.
User: Some will win, some will lose.
Cleverbot: Some were born to sing the blues.
User: Oh, the movie never ends.
Cleverbot: It goes on and on and on and on.
User: Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard.
Cleverbot: Their shadows searching in the night.
User: Streelights people, living just to find emotion.
Cleverbot: Hiding somewhere in the night.
User: Don't stop believin'.
Cleverbot: Streetlight. Dancing.
User: Hold on to the feelin.
Cleverbot: Don.
User: Dont stop believin'.
Cleverbot: What class are you in right now?
Mission accomplished.
He stumbled at the end, though.
EDIT:
User: Kk, I'm going to sing you a song, so stfu til I'm done.
Cleverbot: Okay!
User: There were three men came out of the west, their fortunes for to try. And these three men made a solemn vow: John Barleycorn must die. They've plowed, they've sown, they've harrowed him in, threw clods upon his head. And these three men made a solemnm vow: John Barleycorn was dead. They've let him lie for a very long time, Till the rains from heaven did fall. And little Sir John sprung up his head, and so amazed them all. They've let him stand till midsummer's day, till he looked both pale and drawn. And little Sir John's grown a long, long beard, and so become a man. They've hired men with a scythe so sharp. To cut him off at the knee. They've rolled him and tied him, by the way, serving him most barbarously. They've hired men with the sharp pitchforks, who pricked him to the heart. And the loader, he has served him worse than that, for he's bound him to the cart. They've wheeled him around and around the field, they came unto a barn. And there they made a solemn oath on poor John Barley-corn. They've hired men with the crabtree sticks, to cut him skin from bone. And the miller, he has served him worse than that, for he's ground him between two stones. And little Sir John's in the nut-round bowl, and he's brandy in the glass. And.
Cleverbot: You aren't human, its like comparing apples and oranges.
EDIT2: Here we go. I have a winner. Take note of when I give up, deciding he hasn't learned my song, and switch to American Pie:
User: There were three men came out of the west.
Cleverbot: Smile.
User: Their fortunes for to try.
Cleverbot: Both.
User: A long, long time ago.
Cleverbot: Alright, let's forget it.
User: I can still remember.
Cleverbot: All the feelings you gave me after I tied you up for those three days.