Follia

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.