Domingo a las 7:30

There may be things you like more than others
There may be gods in whom you believe more
There may be people who steal from you more than others
For one alone you are capable of crying

Because when the gallery is empty
And only the announcer remains in the booth
You only hear on the bus radio
The commentary of the game that ended
And in the stadium there is no longer sun

Melancholy that pierces your soul
The last goal shout paralyzes you
Tomorrow is Monday, there is no time for dreams
Only the echo left by the commentator

A single triumph can mean more than many things
And if it's defeat, you never stop fighting
Tomorrow is Monday and the game of life
At eight o'clock will blow the starting whistle

In the eternal heart of your loves
In their colors, another pain fades
Knowing that the weekend everything returns
To be more real and in the stadium there is no longer sun

Main avenue, Alameda and Santa Rosa
The buses carry the illusion
Of another Sunday playing as the home team
Because this away game date is over

Subsequently, this song ends with the
Chorus... and there you must improvise...

'Since you arrived in my life...
nothing has been gray again'