
đ¶Drank Too Much in Razor Hill
A rowdy, reckless drinking song straight out of Durotarâs red dirt. Drank Too Much in Razor Hill is part tavern brawl, part nostalgic anthem, and all Horde spirit. It tells the story of youthful chaos, wild nights, and scars that last longer than hangovers. The kind of blues you only learn when you grow up in Razor Hill.
NoobSidious
2 min read

đPicture the blazing orange sky of Durotar fading into night. The watchtower bells ring, but in Razor Hill the real music is the clash of mugs, the pounding of drums, and the laughter of orcs and trolls already deep in their cups. Fights spill into the dusty roads, someoneâs climbing on a wyvern they have no business riding, and every scar earned tonight will be a story tomorrow. This isnât just a song â itâs Razor Hillâs heartbeat, loud, unashamed, and still echoing through every Horde veteran who remembers their wild youth.
Lyrics
We were young and dumb with blades in hand
Raised in the red dirt and sun-baked land
Learned to fight 'fore we learned to write
Out in Razor Hill every rowdy night
There was Grok and me and a troll named Jool
Runninâ from the guards near the training pool
Weâd steal some firewater, stir some spells
End up howlinâ drunk by the watchtower bells
Yeah we drank too much in Razor Hill
Got scars and stories weâre hidinâ still
Wrestled in the dirt, raced kodos fast
Taught a Blood Elf how to throw a flask
We ainât got much, but weâve got will
And the Horde donât sleep in Razor Hill
Snuck through Durotar, past scorp and boar
Painted our warface, kicked in the door
That one time we tried to ride a wyvernâs wing
Jool fell off, broke everything
Yeah we drank too much in Razor Hill
Banged drums and axes just for the thrill
Started a fight with the innkeepâs son
And blamed the goblin when we had to run
We ainât got much, but weâve got will
And the Horde donât sleep in Razor Hill
Weâre older now, with armor worn
But our hearts still burn from the place weâre born
If the Warchief calls, we rise and kill
But we still get loud in Razor Hill
So if you ride past Senâjin way
And hear some laughter near end of day
Grab a mug, drop that chill
And get real dumb in Razor Hill

Out on Azerothâs dusty roads, every step has a story, and every story needs a song.
These country blues tracks are your travel companions, perfect for long rides through Westfallâs golden fields, fishing trips in Booty Bay, or moonlit strolls past the quiet walls of Stormwind.
Feel the twang of a goblinâs guitar, the stomp of a dwarven boot, and the howl of a worgenâs midnight tune.
Whether youâre questing, wandering, or just soaking in the view⊠this is the music of Azerothâs open road.
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