That won’t do any good, the crow said. I told you, the answer is flying, not crying. How hard can it be? I’m doing it. The crow took to the air and flapped around Bran’s hand.
“You have wings,” Bran pointed out. Maybe you do too. Bran felt his shoulders, groping for feathers. There are different kinds of wings, the crow said.
I just wanna throw my phone away
Find out who is really there for me
‘Cause you ripped me off, your love was cheap
Was always tearing at the seams
I fell deep and you let me drown