Harry Potter spends his summers waiting for the fall;
He'd count the days, and dream each night of Hogwarts' distant call
The Dursleys, Harry's relatives, were wretched as can be-a;
He prayed each night to Satan that they'd die from gonorrhea

But one day he received a note that Hogwarts had burned down:
"Oh no!" he cried, and quickly donned a disappointed frown
He trashed his room and tore his books, and then went for his trunk
But Dumbledore popped out and bellowed, "Harry! You've been Punk'd!"

Harry stared in disbelief at Dumbledore's old smirk;
He knew it was joke, but he got pissed and went berserk
He threw the old man to the ground and punched him in the beard;
He pinned him down with all his weight, and that's when it got weird

Dumbledore was smiling as young Harry sat on top;
He made a funny noise and ordered Harry not to stop
But Harry got freaked out and threw a large book at his head
And Dumbledore stopped moving, it seemed Dumbledore was dead

Run, Harry, run, Harry, run!
You killed your headmaster, now your problem's just begun!
Run, Harry, run, Harry, run, Harry, run!
Who can fend off Voldemort now?
No one