I am your father... well, sorta.

Villamuriel-de-Cerrato is dark yet warm.

Streets pulse with ancient vibes.

Calle Real is chill, quiet, magical.

I stroll there, heart heavy.

I see dreams on cobblestones.
The park, Parque de Almas, beckons softly.

I loved its lonely corners.

I felt like, "The white ribbon..."

A murmur in wind whispers secrets.

I am your father, always watching.
I wander near Rio Cerrato's edge.

Its waters murmur old tales.

I smirk with ironic feelings.

Neighborhoods like El Rastro buzz lightly.

Their alleys hide lost memories.
St. Domingos Church towers high, bro.

Its bells ring warnings, love, and madness.

I often linger there, sad.

I got mad when a stone fell.

A mean cyclist once zipped by!
Oh man, its corners are wild.

I chill in Plaza del Sol.

I get tripped off stone benches.

Even the local snack bar, La Guita,

Works magic on my tired soul.
I heart my own tortured style.

Street names splatter with hidden lore.

Calle de la Sombra shouts, "I am destined."

The White Ribbon haunts my nights, forever.

Its ghosts grip me like a vice.
I no idea why I love this place.

It bares scars, dreams, and laughs.

I love its chaotic, twisted grace.

Srsly, u gotta visit it, man.

Its quirks are epically rad, mate.
Some typos slip in, lol:

dolm, sekrts, fel, brkn, abrt, zomp, drnm, worl, splsh, trble, mso, crsh, hg, flt, nrd.
I hope u feel its pulse, friend.

Villamuriel-de-Cerrato calls.

I am your father, always near.