Peter Hollens - Rains Of Castamere pe Lyrkit

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Rains Of Castamere

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
Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall
With not a soul to hear

For hands of gold are always cold
But a woman's hands are warm
Yes hands of gold are always cold
But a woman's hands are warm

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
With not a soul to hear

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 not a soul to hear
Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall
With not a soul to hear

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