Lord Garth Tyrell - A Rose with Thorns

+ Show full styles

V6-WILD

[Pre-Chorus]
But from the shadow stepped a boy,
With green upon his name,
Too young to bear a kingdom's weight,
Or so they thought the same.

[Chorus]
Oh, Westeros, beware the rose,
For thorns grow sharp when kingdoms fall.
Young Garth now sits where Matthos stood,
And he has heard the whispering call.
The Queen may think his hand is hers,
That Highgarden bends her way
But roses bloom beneath the sun,
And roses turn away.

[Verse]
The Queen sent gold and promises,
She called him loyal son,
She spoke of crowns and golden roads,
Of battles yet to come.
She smiled as if the boy were hers,
A lord beneath her throne,
But Garth looked deep into her eyes
And saw she stood alone.

[Pre-Chorus]
For Matthos played the game with grace,
And knew when not to speak.
But Garth was raised among the thorns
And learned that strength can wait.

[Bridge]
A raven flies from Highgarden,
Its message sealed in green.
No sword is drawn, no banners rise,
No treason yet is seen.
But one by one the vows grow cold,
And courtiers start to doubt.
For when a rose withdraws its scent,
You know the spring is out.

[Verse]
The young lord walks the garden paths
Where his father walked before.
He touches every ancient stone,
And knows what crowns are for.
Not glory, not a golden seat,
Not songs that bards will sing
But keeping what the Tyrells have
When winter comes for kings.

[Final Chorus]
Oh, Westeros, beware the rose,
The quiet rose, the watching thorn.
For Garth has chosen neither crown
Nor chains the Queen has sworn.
She thought his youth would make him weak,
His grief would make him stay
But Highgarden has changed its tune,
And Garth has turned away.

[Outro]
So raise no glass for war tonight,
And light no funeral pyre.
The greatest storms begin in whispers,
Not in flame or fire.
Lord Matthos sleeps beneath the earth,
His legacy lives on
And where the old rose fell to dust,
A younger rose has grown.

2433/7500

[Verse] The bells were low in Highgarden, The roses bowed their heads, For Lord Matthos, proud and noble, Lay silent among the dead. A lord beloved by many, A shield in troubled days, Now winter walks the gardens, And darkness haunts the ways. [Pre-Chorus] But from the shadow stepped a boy, With green upon his name, Too young to bear a kingdom's weight, Or so they thought the same. [Chorus] Oh, Westeros, beware the rose, For thorns grow sharp when kingdoms fall. Young Garth now sits where Matthos stood, And he has heard the whispering call. The Queen may think his hand is hers, That Highgarden bends her way But roses bloom beneath the sun, And roses turn away. [Verse] The Queen sent gold and promises, She called him loyal son, She spoke of crowns and golden roads, Of battles yet to come. She smiled as if the boy were hers, A lord beneath her throne, But Garth looked deep into her eyes And saw she stood alone. [Pre-Chorus] For Matthos played the game with grace, And knew when not to speak. But Garth was raised among the thorns And learned that strength can wait. [Chorus] Oh, Westeros, beware the rose, For thorns grow sharp when kingdoms fall. Young Garth now sits where Matthos stood, And he has heard the whispering call. The Queen may think his hand is hers, That Highgarden bends her way But roses bloom beneath the sun, And roses turn away. [Bridge] A raven flies from Highgarden, Its message sealed in green. No sword is drawn, no banners rise, No treason yet is seen. But one by one the vows grow cold, And courtiers start to doubt. For when a rose withdraws its scent, You know the spring is out. [Verse] The young lord walks the garden paths Where his father walked before. He touches every ancient stone, And knows what crowns are for. Not glory, not a golden seat, Not songs that bards will sing But keeping what the Tyrells have When winter comes for kings. [Final Chorus] Oh, Westeros, beware the rose, The quiet rose, the watching thorn. For Garth has chosen neither crown Nor chains the Queen has sworn. She thought his youth would make him weak, His grief would make him stay But Highgarden has changed its tune, And Garth has turned away. [Outro] So raise no glass for war tonight, And light no funeral pyre. The greatest storms begin in whispers, Not in flame or fire. Lord Matthos sleeps beneath the earth, His legacy lives on And where the old rose fell to dust, A younger rose has grown.

0/500