One night I hold on you, oouhh ouhhh ouhhh
Castamere, castamere, castamere, castamere
In coat of gold or coat of red
A lion still has his claws, and mine are long and sharp as long and sharp as yours
And so he spoke and so he spoke the lord of Castamere
but now the rains weep over his hall with no one there to hear
Yes now the rains weep over his hall with not a soul to hear
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