Magic comes with a price.

Are you willing to pay?

If you want my advice,

You should just stay away!

You’ll have to learn Latin

And dress in long cloaks

All made out of satin

When you work to evoke

You must carry a stick

And wave it around

Your friends think you sick

Or somewhat unsound

You’ll chant over candles

And cough in the smoke

And wear wicker sandals

As you try not to choke

And trust me an oven

Is much better for use

Than fireballs from covens

When cooking a goose

Sure you can call storms

Throw fire, summon frogs

If you learn all the forms

And you live in the bogs

But I tell you young master

the ends are quite tragic

For fools who chase after

That thing we call magic