Sigur Rós - The Rains of Castamere

One night I hold on
You, you
Castamere, Castamere, Castamere, Castamere
In coat of gold or 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
And now the rains weep over his hall
with no one there to hear
Yes, now the rains weep over his hall,
And not a soul to hear...