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The Rains Of Castamere

The National

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
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