Ramin Djawadi
The Rains of Castamere
One night, I hold on you
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, you
Castamere
Castamere
Castamere
Castamere

A 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 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
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh