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 knowA coat of gold, a coat of red
A lion still has claws
And mine are long and sharp, my Lord
As long and sharp as yoursAnd so he spoke, and so he spoke
That Lord of Castamere
And now the rains weep o'er his halls
With no one there to hearYes, now the rains weep o'er his halls
And not a soul to hear
Sabe de quem é a composição? Envie pra gente.
