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.