Tears, in her eyes
Only phobia I ever had,

Tears, in her eyes
Only thing i'll ever crave.

With thunders and lighting,
We bid farewell to the home,
Deserving the European chrome.

The rivals celebrated the win,
We wept in deep sorrow,
Not of defeated, Neither humiliation,
It was something far important,
Our home, died, on a night
even the sky cried.

The night, we won,
Yet lost everything we had,
There was deep sorrow somewhere,
In a city lit up with festive joy,
Thats where Vicente Calderon was,
The home to Los RajiBlancos.

never will I ever try to fit myself,
in a predefined mould of perfection,

until the day comes,
all of our fingerprints are the same.

the love he needed,
the gloss of success he craved,
it was nothing but a masquerade…

blinded by the laminated desires,
of the mockery camouflaged as love,
he fell for a complete charade.

foolish he was to believe the travesty,
that brought upon endless misery,
he craved the love all too glossy to be real.

mockery or parody, perhaps,
he was a *******,
fell in love with misery.