(Accepted! Thanks for joining! Oh, and isn't Northern Dancer a real race horse?)
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---- ---- ------------ ----- ------- ------- ------- ----- 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 know. And in a coat of red Or a coat of gold A lion still has claws. And mine are long and sharp, my lord, As long as sharp as yours. And so he spoke, and so he spoke That lord of Castamere. Yet now the rains weep o'er his halls, With no one there to hear. Yes now the rains weep o'er his halls, With not a soul to hear. ---- ---- ------------ ----- ------- ----- -----