Low underground, Where roaches crawl, Lives, like a king, A very big orc. His name is unknown, His reasons a secret, But who really cares About the life of a fool? Low underground, Where you can't stand, You can hear, like a quake, A dancing old orc. He is happy and he sings, He dances and he screams, He knows he's just mad, He is just a fool. Low underground, Where worms eat ground, No one should live, No one should breathe, We have our friend. He likes to be alone. I, really, don't care, He is just a fool