Something is stirring in the kitched
Something is bubbling just beneath
Something is cooing in the basement
Something is hot - the heat, the heat
The steam in the air is thick and rising
Smoke from the fire is gathering now
Air from the window's so refreshing
Mopping the sweat from off their brow
Suddenly legs are quickly racing
Through the painting hole in the wall
Hundreds of ears flap like they're dancers
Some kind of clumsy house-elf ball
The battle outside is rough and noisy
Death Eaters cursing left and right
They're not enough to beat the house-elves
Cunning magicians will win the fight
Something is stirring in the kitched
Something is bubbling just beneath
Something is cooing in the basement
Something is hot - the heat, the heat