I Am Not Questioning Your Honor, I

When The Red Star Bleeds And The Darkness Gathers, Azor Ahai Shall Be Born Again Amidst Smoke And Salt To Wake Dragons Out Of Stone.

No One Will Be Alive By The Last Book. In Fact, They All Die In The Fifth. The Sixth Book Will Be Just A Thousand-page Description Of Snow Blowing Across The Graves.

And Who Are You, The Proud Lord Said That I Must Bow So Low? Only A Cat Of A Different Coat, That's All The Truth I Know. In A Coat Of Gold Or A Coat Of Red, A Lion Still Has Claws. And, Mine Are As Long And Sharp, My Lord As Long And Sharp As Yours. And So He Spoke, And So He Spoke, That Lord Of Castamere, But Now The Rains Weep O'er His Hall, With No One There To Hear. Yes, Now The Rains Weep O'er His Hall, And Not A Soul To Hear.

My Featherbed Is Deep And Soft, And There I’ll Lay You Down, I’ll Dress You All In Yellow Silk And On Your Head A Crown. For You Shall Be My Lady Love, And I Shall Be Your Lord. I’ll Always Keep You Warm And Safe, And Guard You With My Sword. And How She Smiled And How She Laughed, The Maiden Of The Tree. She Spun Away And Said To Him, No Featherbed For Me. I’ll Wear A Gown Of Golden Leaves, And Bind My Hair With Grass, But You Can Be My Forest Love, And Me Your Forest Lass.

Jon Snow Had Dreamed Of Leading Men To Glory Just As King Daeron Had, Of Growing Up To Be A Conqueror. Now He Was A Man Grown And The Wall Was His, Yet All He Had Were Doubts. He Could Not Even Seem To Conquer Those.