The rains of Castamere

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.

"O, hear my call", the look out cried
his eyes upon the vale
"I see sunlight upon armours
many riders on the trail.

And still Lord Reyne of Castamere
harped to his elegy
"No stripling boy untried by arms
will play lord over me!"

And so he spoke, and so he spoke
the lord of Castamere
But now the rains weep o'er his hall
with no one there to hear.

The lions at the gate had come
to lift his infant heirs on spears
And so he spoke, and so he spoke
the lord of Castamere
Now the rains weep o'er his hall
with not a soul to hear.