Sansa
Sweet songs in my head, I dreamed of fairytales and Princes
Wishing one would take me away to make me his little misses
And it almost seemed he would, but then he killed my sweet wolf Lady
And in his palace I soon learned that fairytales are just for babies
Well the inbred Lion choked. The bastard Flayed Man got devoured
And I am no longer a Little Bird trapped inside her tower
Through their tortures and their scheming, I learned my lessons well,
Now people look to me, the Lady Wolf of Winterfell
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Rickon
Father left, then mother too. Knew they would not be coming back
A little boy's distress put Shaggydog always on the attack
My foster mother Osha says you cannot tame a wild thing
And they called me the Wild Wolf, little lord raised by a Wildling
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Robb
With my father in prison, overnight I must be a man
So I called up all the banners and dared them call me boy again
So they called me the Young Wolf, first North King in three-hundred years
Their swords laid at my feet and accolades brought my mother to tears
March south to pit the Wolf's howl against the Lion's roar
And with Grey Wind by my side it seemed victory was for sure
Won every battle fought, but the war was lost in bed
So I pass the torch, let my half-brother Jon be King instead
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Jon
Separated from the pack just like my direwolf pup, Ghost
But always I have fought for those who needed me the most
I didn't ask for power, but yet they hand it to me
Guess they trust me now to lead them through the danger that is looming
Did what was never done, made allies of Wildings and Northmen
Took back Winterfell, now face off with the army of the dead
They call me Resurrected, King in the North, and Lord Commander
If it's all the same, I still say that the titles don't matter
Forget "The Prince that was Promised", or "The Dragon has three heads"
Truth, if not for my killer Little Sister then we would all be dead
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Arya
You may be the White Wolf, but they call me the Night Wolf
I shut many eyes forever. You don't want to raise my temper
Trained by Faceless Men to be the most elite of hired guns
Find a knife in your back, look around and you'll see No One
Like Nymeria running wild ever since I set her free
To be a high born noble lady, that simply isn't me
"Stick them with the pointy end", first lesson came a long way
And still a way to go cause we're not dead yet, no Not Today
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Bran
Fell off from a high tower, lost my legs but got new powers
I gained the sight and magic dreams, now I must find out what it means
By going north far as North goes to find the man trapped in a tree
The Bloodraven showed me visions and he taught me how to See
Once a Sweet Summer Child; Summer was lost inside that cave-in
I can no longer be a Wolf now that I am a Three-Eyed Raven