Oh, and here's a song I wrote a while back which I now find suits NAV down to the ground
To the Bottle!
To the bottle, me lads, to the bottle!
Let’s drown our woe and raise our glass
To Old Armok, our Lord of Blood!
Drown the Woe! Down you go!
Your beard is bushy when you drink,
With tassels spreading down like silk!
A beardless elf enters the room,
And shows shaven chin to you.
What to do? What to do? An elf he is!
We’ll burn his wood, the tree-sworn monk,
And sow his land with salt and brine-
His house we’ll burn with beer we’ve drunk!
To the bottle, me lads, to the bottle!
Let’s drown our woe and raise our glass
To Old Armok, our Lord of Blood!
Drown the Woe! Down you go!
The magma rises in the deep,
It fills the halls while we yet sleep.
The smell of burning drifts on up
And seeps around my drinking cup.
Release the sea, quench its thirst.
Rise the steam, do your worst.
Boil and kill, maim and steal,
For we are Dwarves, and made of steel!
To the bottle, me lads, to the bottle!
Let’s drown our woe and raise our glass
To Old Armok, our Lord of Blood!
Drown the Woe! Down you go!
In the deeps a beast comes fast
And kills our dwarves with misty blast.
Laugh and cheer, then sober jeer
As Beast sheds a single pain filled tear…
So watch it cry, then help it die!
Give it booze, a drunken beast,
Feed it high with malty yeast.
Then give it light, a !!torch!! so bright….
To the bottle, me lads, to the bottle!
Let’s drown our woe and raise our glass
To Old Armok, our Lord of Blood!
Drown the Woe! Down you go!
The booze is gone, our revels done,
We go to work with the rising sun.
We mine and hew, we work all day.
But then the night comes, and so we say…
Open the barrels, the booze and the beer,
Go have a laugh filled with good cheer.
Remember times of Dwaven lore,
Then pick up an axe and go to war!
To the battle, me lads, to the battle!
Let’s drown our ire and raise our axe
To Old Armok, our Lord of Blood!
Drown the Foe! Down you go!