Born into the carnage of the reeking pit,
To a master risen high above us all.
We only serve to fight for a grander end,
Yet all we seek is glory for the thralls.
A host of newfound darkness, faster than the wind,
When it rolls through your villages, destroys what we seek.
Nothing safe before us, not simple orcs are we,
But the fighting Uruk-hai; fear our rise!

Ruination, carnage, rivers of blood.
Rohan's mighty fall in numbers untold.
The White Hand of Saruman marches to war,
As man grows tired, his empires will fall.
Fire from the sky, just as the Great Eye watches,
It brings down hell on your citadel of mud.
Oh Glorious, Oh Saruman, deliver us the promise
Of a thousand to butcher, to murder, to cull

We are the fighting Uruk-hai!!
Immortal in all enterprise!
Our glory is certain and pure,
We are this world's future.

The stories of Balrogs cannot compare,
To the strength in our numbers, our superior warfare.
Not even a dragon could raise cities down,
With our Master's magic, nothing can stand.
Already heroes rank in the lives we have claimed,
A warden of Gondor, our eventual aim.
Lurtz indefeatable, his strength is prime.

We are the fighting Uruk-hai!!
Immortal in all enterprise!
Our glory is certain and pure,
We are this world's future.

We fight, Uruk-hai!

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