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  1. 12 ore fa · 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 And now the rains weep o'er his halls With no one there to hear. Yes, now the rains weep o'er his halls And not a soul to hear. #17412.