by New Waver
Lose at school, lose at uni
Face is ugly, muscles puny
Give up mating with a sigh
Nine-to-five until you die
There is no magik
See the groovy gurus
They're superior to you
Give the sermons, get the roots
Losers pay their rent and food
That is their magik
They are so immodest, they postulate a Goddess
There are no white witches, they're this year's phony preachers
Their deity is Cupid, it's trendy to be stupid
Tragik
Biology maketh the man
What that means, he don't understand
Post-modern masturbation
All across the loser nation
They hope for magik
There is no magik