Sacrilege. Shadow From Mordor. Zeneszám

Like the shadow from Mordor, creeping slowly forward,
Unleashed from it's sanctuary by the devil in man,
The world thrown into torm
ent by their uncarping greed,
We stare into the face of death screaming to be freed.
Their control is complete, we the voiceless have none,
Beaten into defeat by the arm of the strong,
Now the shadow gets darker for they've stolen the sun,
And the sale of our earth has already begun.
Like Durins bane, rising of from the deep,
There is evil at work while the people do sleep,
As they plunder the earth, still we sit back and watch,
Their wrath consumes all that would stand in their path.
G: AT DEATH DOOR
The new day is dawning they start counting the dead,
The hard swollen bellies of the children not fed,

Their land dry and parched still they pray for the rain,
The massacre continous yet again and again.
Year after year the lands ring deaths bell,
The childrens blind eyes have a sad tale to tell,
Their limbs bent and twisted, their kinds hold no spark,
They're crying in vain for no light breaks the dark.
The land holds the hammer but mankind deals the blow,
Economics and pro
fit before compassion we show,
Our excesses waste as the wealthy grow fat,
Rather than give to the needy they'll let the food rot.
At death door they stand, only suffering they know.