After the long hard days
Of hunting and of war
Our throats are tired and thirsty
And our bodies drenched in gore

But we won’t waste our evenings
Feeling tired and feeling spent
We perk right up when we breathe in
That wholesome honey scent

That Cyrodilic Brandy
Too fruity for these tongues
You can keep your fancy alto wine
It tastes like horker dung!

Balmora Blue tastes great to you
But here we like it plain
Just fill my mug
With the mighty jug
Of honey, heart and grain

Drinking mead in the halls of Whiterun
The maidens and the men
We swig our brew
Until we spew
Then we fill our mugs again

You can keep your filthy Skooma
It makes our bellies bleed
Cause when we raise our flagon
To another dead dragon
There is just one drink we need
Nord mead!

Chug a mug of mead
And another mug of mead
Chug another mug of mead
Till you fall down (Nord mead!)
Chug a mug of mead
And another mug of mead
Chug another mug of mead, warrior!