Lord Filch

In warfare it's always been "we" against "they" 
The reasons seem always the same 
But one man sees conflict 
As scenes in a play 
And soldiers mere Pawns in his Game

To him it don't matter Who loses or wins 
To nobody's law he abides 
He'll fight like a lion Beside you and then 
When you've turned your head He's switched sides!!

No one dances like Filch or takes chances like Filch 
No one puts the young ladies In trances like Filch
He's a treacherous wretch Well worth hating 
On occasion he's known to imbibe 
One fine day when his thirst Needed sating 
He sold his dear son To an Indian tribe

No one tracks like Lord Filch No one hacks like Lord Filch
No one shoots ladies Square in their backs Like Lord Filch
If you've need of the worse Put some coins in his purse 
He'll desert the lads in a pinch 
He's a swaggering swell of no note He's headed for hell  
In his tattered brown coat Gad wot a cad!! Lord Filch!!!