Words and music by Rupert Holmes
The Star is Born Soundtrack, 1976
Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson
sung by Barbra Streisand

The black, black widow is sittin' in the middle of the web,
it's the fly she seeks.
You may be her lover but you never will recover, 'cause
she ain't had a bite for weeks.
You think your the same, 'cause you got the same name,
but the widow has a mobile home.
Remember what I told you, she got eight arms to hold you,
and she's never gonna let you roam.
She'll tuck into bed and truck on your head, then she'll
wrap you as a midnight snack.
So if you see a spider, don't you sidle up beside her
Why'd you think the widow's wearin' black?

Queen bee, baby
Pray that you may be left on your own, uh huh
Nothin' she'll give you, gonna outlive you, uh, uh, uh
But the queen bee's never gonna be alone. Uh huh.
Long before Atlantis there has been a praying mantis and
you knows why he's on his knees.
He may have religion but he's just a sittin' pigeon if a
woman even starts to tease.
He won't even quibble if she has a little nibble on his neck,
what a way to go.
And now you done and torn it! You been messin' with a
hornet, she's a blue-blooded wasp, you know.
And just as you do it, she'll inject you with a fluid that you
ain't even got but none.
You're the meat on the plate, not even first rate, she's
gonna feed you to her seventh son.

Just like the Queen Bee, baby
Pray that you may be left on your own,
Nothin' she'll give you, gonna outlive you, uh, uh, uh
But the queen bee's never gonna be alone. Uh huh. Uh huh.

So, in conclusion, it's an optical illusion, if you think that
we're the weaker race.
Men got the muscle, but the ladies got the hustle, and the
truth is staring in your face.
The mother bear stalks, and the queen of the hawks, is the
one who brings home the bread.
The lion that is regal, and the bald headed eagle, need a
woman just to keep them fed.
But come the evenin', we're like Adam and his Eve, inside
the garden. Hear the serpent's sound?
It's so frustratin', when you're really into matin', and there
ain't a lovin' man around.

Whoever wrote this story
(it's so frustratin', when you're really
into matin', and there ain't a lovin' man around)
Throw out the glory
(it's so frustratin', when you're really
into matin', and there ain't a lovin' man around)
Bring in the men (give me them and I'll swing)
Write me a sequel
Give me an equal, oh, oh, oh
And I'll give that man
I said I'm give that lovin' man
I said I'm gonna give that lovin' man
I'm gonna give him that lovin' sting! Zap!