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.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,

that lord of Castamere,

and now the rains weep o'er his hall,

with no one there

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,

that lord of Castamere,

and now the rains weep o'er his hall,

with no one there to hear.

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,

and now the rains weep o'er his hall,

with no one there to hear,

a soul to hear...

...