| 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 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.
|
| 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. |