A silent night it turns

The joy of wrath has devoured to the tears of lost

The tears we lest expect has nudged us again

What a silent night it turns on the coast

A holy night on the outskirts of the capitals

For table turns surely

The Gyans are free indeed as Ayew takes the barton of vocal torture

A story to be scribed for the coming borns for a saved set of defeat for the stars

The nights for the tunes for jingle bells hasn’t yet arrived but the night is silent with the stars

The stars return home as before unfulfilling their words of hope

The jabberings of “Ghana must go” has begun to echo in the cloud again

The black star is back home again leaving the towered dreams vain

All flights of hope now lead back home hopeless for an ungained revenge

Twelve years of regret has brought home tears

The stars has done it again

All stakes for a dime has yet grown to pains

For a silent night it turns on the noisy outskirts

Qatar bids a farewell to all flights of the stars

Fruitful days ahead they proclaimed

But a silent night it turns