Between the snows and gales that shoughed
A little girl was born
Far up the kingsroad, past the moat
A world away from Dorne
From dawn to dusk they rang the bells
And ravens filled the skies
To spread the word of Winterfellâs
New babe with Tully eyes
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A pretty girl, the bluest stare
And fire in her hair
In time a Lady, sweet and fairÂ
And often found in prayer
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Before the seven in the sept
With chants by candlelight
And though that was the faith she kept
She sought the weirwoodâs might
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For every morn come sun or rain
She stole between the trees
And prayed for something quite inane
To old gods on her knees
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She prayed for love without delay,
For them to right her wrongs,
To travel somewhere far away
With pretty lights and songs
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And so one day the winds of change
Veered off and howled her way,
Took it upon to rearrange
Her joy to grave dismay
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Because as is the case with life
And any in her throes
The purest hearts are lost to strife
And wishes turn to woes
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And so it was, both knights and squires
No more than charming lies
The pretty lights were burning pyres
And songs the burial cries
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That nest of snakes upon a stage
She had to call her home
For she, a songbird in a cage
Had nothing but her comb
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And though she lied and played the part
She kept them in her heart
Three brothers and a sister andÂ
A sixth who stood apart
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