The Sorting Hat Song

Step up, little wizard, I won't take long,

Once you've lent yourself a listen to the Sorting Hat Song.

Lay your rear on my stool and your brains 'neath my brim,

Let me dictate your life by your childhood whim.

You may think me callous; you may think what you will,

But don't think it too loud; your dreams are mine to kill.

If you're worthless then I'll throw you in the badger's den,

Heartless bastard? Thuggish toady? Sort Slytherin.

Got the heart of a lion and air in your head?

Live reckless, die young, don the gold and red!

Ravenclaw, without doubt, for a thirsty brain,

For the moody, antisocial, and the clinically insane.

Cling to justifications for the house I choose,

But with options like these, you can't help but loose.

You'll be defined by the moment you sit under me,

And let an ancient talking hat control your destiny.