We are no longer orcs

Remember, brother, how we crushed the elvish filth,
How their vile hordes were fleeing to the West?
We were stomping Gondor's mud with sticks and pith,
So that white-walled Mordor would be at its best!

And by showing the world a fearless example,
To the roaring anthem of a jet engine's hum,
On the backs of our swift-winged and terrible chimeral,
Our Red-Star Nazg;l were flying to come!

Gandalf-Jugend could not escape the orcish blades,
Though the foes were begging for mercy as they lay dying.
Counting not our losses, not closing up our shades,
Steel battalions of Uruk-hai were marching and vying.

Through the plains of Rohan, through the hell of Moria's gate,
Was the last elvish destroyer finally sunk.
By the Anduin's waters, where the darkness waits,
Goblin Marines took Osgiliath in a chunk!

How can one forget such a thing if they try?
The tubed trunk of a slain Oliphaunt in the square?
Or that moment in Minas Tirith when a hobbit guy
Danced for us on an accordion? He was bare!

From the chopped Ents we built a magnificent pyre,
Doors and windows were flung open wide to the air.
And a looting dwarf was praying in his attire,
While the elf-maidens moaned: "Oh, das ist wunderbar!"

So the bloody stage of the war was at last complete.
We had won! The only small task left to do:
To judge the sorcerers and the elvish elite
By an impartial Mordor tribunal true!

And our verdict was humane, as you might recall:
To Kolyma! But Gandalf and Aragorn
Were sentenced by just Mordor to face the downfall,
Mostly for their part in that filthy pooorn!

But a disaster struck — our great teacher and chief,
Our Comrade Saurovych, one day while drunk,
Fell into a volcano for no good reason or grief,
And the Ring of Power with him silently sunk...

And the time came for doubt and for political rot,
The shameful wolves had grown strong and grown bold.
That's when a spineless tome was written by that sot,
A Silmarillion Zionist named Tolkien of old!

Since that day, historical truth has been gone,
We have lost our backbones, our plateaus and shelves.
And it came to the point where invincible Mordor was won
By Rohirrim, elves and some Jews by themselves!!!

It's all over now. I wouldn't wish it on you.
We have settled down in some godforsaken nook.
In the yard on melting snow, stained with piss and dew,
A hobbit in script writes: "You are no longer orcs!"

We had read The Lord of the Rings with a passionate zeal,
We had learned all the lies from the cover to book.
No surprise that in Mordor we face such an ordeal.
It is because we are no longer orcs!

WE ARE NO LONGER ORCS!
WE ARE NO LONGER ORCS!
Because we are no longer orcs.

Английская адаптация, пародия на пародию, на осмысление Толкиеновской вселенной с точки зрения орков... хотя параллели читаются и иные.