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Highgarden's bloom no more, the roses lie in dust,
The banners fall, the lords betrayed, their pride reduced to rust.
The Reach once stretched in green and gold, now whispers on the wind,
The warring lion came, and now the Reach is never seen again.
And the Reach, oh, the Reach, in ruin lies,
The rose shall fade beneath the lion’s eyes.
No more the song of flowers in the field,
The Tyrells' fall, their fate sealed.
From Mace’s hand to Margaery’s grace, the crown did bow, the gates did break,
They swore their fealty, and now the lilies wake.
Lady Olenna’s sharp words no longer sting,
For now the Reach shall bow to King Joffrey’s ring.
And the Reach, oh, the Reach, in ruin lies,
The rose shall fade beneath the lion’s eyes.
No more the song of flowers in the field,
The Tyrells' fall, their fate sealed.
What cost the blood of the lion’s pride?
The Reach was bled and cast aside.
The roses’ thorns will prick no more,
Their petals scattered on a distant shore.
Joffrey’s hand, cold and stern,
Sees only the future, and no concern.
He took the Reach, a proud domain,
Now crushed beneath the lion’s reign.
And the Reach, oh, the Reach, in ruin lies,
The rose shall fade beneath the lion’s eyes.
No more the song of flowers in the field,
The Tyrells' fall, their fate sealed.
The Reach is lost, as Tarbeck fell,
Their rose no longer blooms, the tale they tell.
So raise a glass, a bitter toast,
To the Reach, now but a ghost.