A Harry Club, I loathe you!
So many pimply kids shouting criticisms that are pitifully sultry, a bore.
Your gripes and your wars about typos and wrong lines in the script.
You Slytherin fans who would choke the necks of those Ravenclaw freaks
And then fight all day Hufflepuffs in garments of gold.
(Yo, I want every Dobby desisting to be heard in this song.)
...It's getting old.

It never would have seemed that a billion teenage geeks,
Would become Potter-lovin' people, who read all week.
Who wear those lame robes over their large Hagrid briefs.
It's like Dumbledore's Army bunched in a chatroom. Eek!

Young Harry's life discussed, so much Granger mail.
All is conflicting in conviction, such brainless claims.
Debates fuelled from video frames replayed, replayed.
Til the page stacks up again with hateful rage.

They come in hordes, wearing Flitwick ears, Filch underwear.
Updating blog sites, preaching like a priest during prayer.
And soon they chatter on about different new magic tricks.
Then they contradict each word and have to start slapping wrists.

"It wasn't Snuffles' sword...listen buddy, it was Snape's office..."
"Then Ron was re-telling him about Fluffy's jaws and... she wasn't!"
Fans guaranteeing Albus Dumbledore's a goblin. Well, probably.
The puzzling things that they write... and they won't shut up on this:

Whiny Harry Club!
A horde of dunderhead kids.
Whiny Harry Club!
Literary books caused all this.
Whiny Harry Club!
Scary like Roald Dahl's crypt.
Kids won't stop reading spells, looking worse than drug addicts.

Whiny Harry Club!
These hook in hundreds of twits.
Whiny Harry Club!
Let them terrorise on the net.
Whiny Harry Club!
Areas swamped with Brits.
Rowling, the Queen of All. Look at all her muggle gifts.

Look at these guys, lazy goofs, crazy over Radcliffe.
They'll swamp his town's railroad soon, wait for Hogwarts Express.
Dan may be huge, ladies coo. Babes flash glimpses of breasts.
Middle-aged dude flashing? "MJ, you're under arrest."

They are riff-raff and I just laugh at Potter-fan crap.
I don't have no magic paper shrinking my school on a map.
Yet whiny saps, all buck-toothed, write out spools of feedback.
Go get a life! Show them where the soccer stadium's at!

When Jo was underground, no-one gave a stuff what she'd write.
No fable printed late nineties; no depraved slobs. Rowling's life: lovely.
Until that sad day. Bloomsbury's blundersome gaffe.
Gave it a chance and, my, it acquired those cumbersome fans.

Soon billions had to be bought. All these fanatical tots,
Thought Hogwarts wizards the rage and soon websites swam in the rot.
These fans can't be stopped! Witches, hags, books full of this chow.
It's like a sin if no Potter-lover's at the cinemas now.

A Whiny Harry Club!
A horde of dunderhead kids.
Whiny Harry Club!
Literary books caused all this.
Whiny Harry Club!
Scary like Roald Dahl's crypt.
Kids won't stop reading spells, looking worse than drug addicts.

Whiny Harry Club!
These hook in hundreds of twits.
Whiny Harry Club!
Let them terrorise on the net.
Whiny Harry Club!
Areas swamped with Brits.
Rowling, the Queen of All. Look at all her muggle gifts.

See the bubbles fizz in beakers of gurgling mist.
Kids could be wise and be clever... but a nerdling wiz?
Those dumb troublemakers should have packed a burn-proof kit.
Transfiguration, Charms and Potions aren't for learning kids!

Wait for the movie out in the fricking snow all day.
These twits flip if it screws up. "Harry's shoes aren't grey!"
Adore the book and so persist for that lucky job.
"We've got our extras, so leave now because you suck as Ron."

And so fans become critics with wands, donned in lycra coats.
Searching with their lion-tooth combs, through lines and quotes.
Stating the faults. Writing down each found typo.
Watching films ninety times each, like psycho spy kids, yo.

All I hear is: magic, tragic, wands and nonsense, curses,
Monsters crawling round a lot like Michael Jackson's constant lurking.
Surely kids stop endeavours to Hogwarts and follow other book rosters.
Laughter and fun aren't all covered in Potter's farting 'round classes.

But yet this passion for acting out magic tricks on a dragon happens,
And I'm just gobsmacked that this action didn't match Baggins'.
Quit... with Potter feedback cuz it's hopeless; foul.
I'm grossed out now. Wish Voldemort would roast you sows!

A Whiny Harry Club!
A horde of dunderhead kids.
Whiny Harry Club!
Literary books caused all this.
Whiny Harry Club!
Scary like Roald Dahl's crypt.
Kids won't stop reading spells, looking worse than drug addicts.

Whiny Harry Club!
These hook in hundreds of twits.
Whiny Harry Club!
Let them terrorise on the net.
Whiny Harry Club!
Areas swamped with Brits.
Rowling, the Queen of All. Look at all her muggle gifts.

So to you members of the Harry club.
Whining unbearably, lame and fricking terrible.
Fleur Delacour? Marry her!
You readers are a curse of such worthless thoughts.
Sent to pee us all right off with your facts and numbers,
Insisting to scorn others right out.
To burn your mags and replace them all with your Goblet of Fire fiction.
Then spit diction to webpages full of Potter freaks and witchcraftery.
Stuff fools from Chamber! Stuff fools wanting more!
Stuff you, wannabes dressed like witches.
Online debates are harassment and annoy me to hell.
Stuff you!

Avra...
Ked-avra...
Nerdlings gather...
Fools!

I'm just playing now, Harry club, you know I love Jo.