Luck

You would think, with the advent of science
And with all the fine stuff we've been taught
That we might have replaced superstition
With reasoned and logical thought

But it seems that for all our advances
We're stuck with our primitive notions
Old wives' tales from the mists of creation
Mystic spells, incantations and potions

Rabbits' feet, four-leaf clovers and horseshoes
Can conspire to determine our fates
And going for that job without your lucky socks
Who can tell what misfortune awaits

Then there's those threatening cracks on the pavement
And unlucky black cats in your way
And as if saying “Hello mister magpie”
Could ward off bad luck for the day

Spilling salt, breaking mirrors, and pennies tails-up
Number thirteen and anything green
Putting shoes on a table or meeting a crow
Could have consequence most unforeseen

And ladders should not be walked under
Not that anyone sensible would
Even I can see sense in that blunder
I've been lucky so far, so touch wood