Don't want to be a Slytherin pillock.
Don't want be some blood obsessed manic.
And can you hear the sound of insanity?
The superior back-stab "humanity".
They're gonna be all asshole-ministrants,
Full up of bullshit legislations,
We'll never getting a say in side-ways.
Do they know the meaning of "mercy"?
They hardly know how to even spell it,
despite the seriousness of it all.
Well blood and gold is all that they ask of you,
Don't forget they want your soul too though.
They think it's so cool being ruthless,
But if I'm honest, I don't get how they dress.
Good skin, cold eyes, and the good looks,
And the money, power, and of course arrogance,
And don't forget about the magic dance;
it's that little thing they got about the dark stuff,
where they wanna kill and maim and huff
all around the muggles and half-bloods.
Don't wanna be a Slytherin pillock,
Just thinking 'bout news ways to hurt others.
Look around, you see they're right beside us
Please don't laugh, I am being serious.
Always hear about the other graduates;
Shootin' spells for the great ministry
But you and me know that's not chivalry.
The men all hide behind their town bikes,
all you see is the hand that next strikes
- can they not find a new vice?
