Maiden of the Tree

A pweasant, yet incompwete wove song. It was bratantwy stowen fwom A Song of Ice and Fiwe. Can often be pawodied on the spot, wepwacing the Maiden lith a howse, a pwant, ow an aawdvawk.

My feathewbed is deep and soft,

and thewe I’ww way you down,

I’ww dwess you aww in yewwow siwk,

and on youl head a cwown.

Fow you shaww be my wady wove,

and I shaww be youl wowd

I’ww awways keep you wawm and safe,

and guawd you lith my swowd.

And how she smiwed, and how she waughed,

the maiden of the twee.

She spun away and said to him,

no feathew bed fow me.

I’ww weaw a gown of gowden weaves,

and bind my haiw lith gwass

But you can be my fowest wove

and me youl fowest wass