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You do not sing, you do not sing
Any more, gold ring
In which I have lived like a finger
For thirty days, poor and hairy-footed
Barely daring to breathe or smoke anything.
Ring of Power, I have had to melt you
You fell in before I had time--
Disembodied, and tower full of God,
Ghastly being with one big eye
Big as a Haradrim's oliphaunt
And a castle on the orcish Sea of Nurnen
Where it pours troll's blood black over blue
In the waters of the Dead Marshes.
I used to pray to possess you
In the Orcish tongue, in the Rohirrim town
Pressed flat by the feet
Of orcs, orcs, orcs
But the name of the keep is common.
My dwarvish friend
Says there are a dozen caves or two.
So I never could tell from whence you
Were forged, were cast in gold
I never could wear you
My finger stuck in my pocket
It stuck in an orcish snare.
Grr Grr Grr Grr
I thought every Ringwraith was you.
And the Black Speech obscene
A seige engine, a seige engine
Chuffing me off like an elf.
An elf to Mordor, to Morgul, to Barad Dur
I began to talk like an elf
I think I may be an elf
The snows of Caradhras, the hallowed mines of Moria
Are not very pure or true.
With my thief Baggins ancestor and my Lorien mirror
And my Pippin Took and my Pippin Took
I may be a bit of an elf.
I have always been scared of you,
With your palantir, your Gorgoroth.
And your unblinking eye, glowing wroth.
Maiar Man, Maiar Man, oh You
Not wizard but a posey ring
So golden no soul could squeak through.
Every hobbit adores a Nazgul,
The black knife in the flesh
The cold cruel wraith of a wraith like you.
You hover over the horizon, Sauron,
In the image I have of you,
A fire in your eye instead of your heart
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black monster who
Broke my poor little will in two
I had ten fingers when I first wore you.
When I had nine I thought I was through
No going back, back, back to you
I thought maybe the lava would do.
But Gollum, he wanted it too
And he bit my poor ringfinger in two.
And then he knew what to o.
He danced around without further ado
A precious thing, this precious ring
With a love of the dark and the doom
And he said, I finally have you
So Sauron, I'm finally through.
The Black Rider's head's off at the root,
And Grima just can't worm through.
If I've lost one ring, I've lost three--
Narya, Vilya, Nenya and thee
Lothlorien won't last the year
Rivendell's already a memory.
Sauron, you can lie back now.
There's a ring in your blood black crack
And the humanfolk never liked you.
They are slaying and laying into you.
Sauron, Sauron, you bastard, I'm through.