Algo Bueno Va A Pasar is a radiant burst of optimism. With its mantra-like repetition of the title phrase, Silvina Moreno turns a simple sentence into a musical charm that chases away doubt and invites hope. The song reminds us that positivity is powerful: it does not matter what will happen, when it will happen, or how it will happen—what matters is the unshakable belief that something good is on its way.
Listening feels like standing in warm sunlight after rain. Each chorus stacks confidence on confidence, encouraging you to replace worry with anticipation and fear with faith. Whether you need a pick-me-up before an exam, a boost on a tough morning, or a soundtrack for manifesting your dreams, this song gently repeats the message until it becomes your own: “Something good is going to happen.”
Tiempo is a heartfelt pop ballad where Mexican singer-songwriter Silvina Moreno turns goodbye into a healing mantra. The lyrics follow someone who knows they must forget a long-term love, yet admits that the process will sting. Repeating requests like “Dame un poco de tiempo” (Give me a little time) echo the real-life need to pause, breathe, and gather strength before moving on.
What makes the song stand out is its vivid imagery. The singer vows to tear the memory out “desde la raíz” (from the root), showing how deeply intertwined this relationship once was. She even compares releasing her partner to letting a giant grow, hinting that sometimes setting love free is the only way both people can reach their full size. Wrapped in gentle guitar lines and airy “uhh uhh” hooks, Tiempo becomes both a sad farewell and an empowering reminder that time, patience, and self-care can transform loss into growth.
Pedestal is a song about the surprising magic that happens when you finally let go. Silvina Moreno sings of years spent building an impossible altar for someone, fueled by loneliness and fear. The moment she steps back and stops idealizing, that very person appears in a real, tangible way. It is a playful reminder that life loves to surprise us the second we drop our heavy expectations.
As the track unfolds, the two voices celebrate a personal transformation: fear melts, solitude turns from enemy to ally, and the future feels brand-new. The lyrics invite you to imagine brushing away the blinding summer sun with one hand and seeing clearly for the first time. When the pedestal crumbles, authentic connection—and a lighter, freer self—step into the spotlight.
Ley De Atracción feels like a heartfelt experiment with a cosmic magnet. Silvina Moreno sings of that curious push-and-pull where the moment you step back, the other person leans in, and when you step closer, they drift away. Over a breezy melody she vows to love without pretending, trading drama for honesty, courage and a dash of mystery. The lyrics celebrate self-awareness: If I remember myself, that is all that is missing. In other words, real magic begins when you put your own needs first.
At its core, the song is a joyful manifesto of self-love: let go of fear, choose truth, and watch life (and love) flow back naturally. Moreno reminds us that clinging only tightens the knot, while trusting yourself sets every attraction in motion. Dance to it, sing along, and test the law for yourself!
“Esperanza” paints the bittersweet moment right after a breakup, when the rain is still fresh on the window and your ex has just walked out with your heart tucked into their suitcase. Silvina Moreno and the carnival-style chorus of Agarrate Catalina describe that instant free-fall: leaves dropping, dreams sinking, yet questions spiraling. The narrator keeps asking, “¿Queda un poco de amor?” because the silence on the other side of the line hurts more than the absence itself. Every verse feels like another wave crashing over a “naufragio” (shipwreck) of hopes, while the melody rocks between melancholy and gentle uplift.
Still, the song refuses to drown. With each refrain of “Esperanza”, the singer clings to a tiny lifeboat of optimism—maybe they will meet again, maybe the passion is only sleeping. That single word, repeated like a mantra, turns heartbreak into a small spark that refuses to die. It reminds us that even when love feels lost, a sliver of hope can keep us breathing, singing, and believing in another sunrise.
"En El 87" feels like opening a time-capsule from Silvina Moreno’s own birth year. The song paints a cinematic scene where a toothless baby — presumably Silvina herself — arrives carrying a mystical, sky-colored secret. Surrounded by a loving family, this child’s boundless imagination invents colors that have never been seen and quietly forges the superpower that will later become her music. Each verse is a postcard of childhood wonder: golden skies, playful sunsets, and whispered prayers asking a higher force to chase away fear.
As the track unfolds, that newborn spark grows into a guiding light that “atraviesa” — pierces through — her heart, transforming her and pushing her to share warmth with others. Silvina sings about channeling her invented power to entertain dreams, sing to the moon, and comfort lonely listeners. In short, the song is a vibrant memoir of self-discovery and creativity: a celebration of how an inner light, nurtured by family and faith, can blossom into art that helps both the artist and her audience feel they belong.
Luminosidad paints love as an exhilarating cosmic storm. Silvina Moreno and Cecy Leos compare their partner to “viento imperfecto” and a “luna seductora,” confessing that this person’s universe is so dazzling it almost feels unbearable. The lyrics whirl through images of wind, moonlight, and a vast, intimidating night sky, all capturing the rush of being pulled out of emotional gravity.
Amid these swirling feelings the song admits to wild swings — “a veces te quiero matar” — yet it holds tight to the idea that real love includes contradictions. Even in frustration, the singer would never change a thing and would still “saltar al mar sin pensar.” In other words, she would dive head-first into the unknown for this imperfect, illuminating romance. The track is a bright pop anthem about embracing intensity, surrendering to vulnerability, and celebrating the blinding light that imperfect love can cast on our lives.
Cuídame is a poetic love letter wrapped in imagery of oceans, stars and giant embraces. Silvina Moreno compares the arrival of her beloved to a feather carried in by the tide and a light from the planet’s core—symbols of something delicate yet powerful that feels destined to stay. Throughout the song she surrenders to this force of love, asking simply: “Cuídame” (Take care of me). It’s the plea of someone who is willing to let herself be “caught in the arms of a giant,” trusting that this overwhelming affection will protect, heal and guide her.
In every verse nature joins the conversation. Clouds hide secrets, stars become guiding souls, and pain vanishes in a single sigh. The result is a dreamy landscape where love is not just an emotion but a cosmic event that shifts the colors of water, grass and sky. Listening to Cuídame feels like drifting on gentle waves while the universe whispers, “You’re safe here.”
La Despedida paints the scene of a woman racing to catch a train while her sandals are still wet, knowing that tomorrow will be her final day with the person she loves. Determined to appear brave, she refuses to cry or complain, yet her heart secretly breaks as she sends an urgent wish to the sky: “Please, someone up there, take care of him for me.” The song explores that fragile space where love, fear and courage collide, capturing the bittersweet moment when two souls must separate even though neither wants to let go.
Silvina Moreno transforms this goodbye into an emotional roller-coaster: pulsing rhythms mirror her pounding heartbeat, and lyrical repetitions of “soltar” (to let go) scratch at the listener’s soul just as the loss scratches hers. The irony is clear—life brings people together only to pull them apart—but the track reminds us that true strength is found in vulnerability and in the small, whispered prayers we offer when words are no longer enough.
“Frío En Los Pies” plays with the classic idea of getting cold feet when love starts feeling real. Silvina Moreno and Kevin Johansen wake up side by side, both nervous and excited, confessing that neither of them has ever loved “someone like this.” They admit their fears, warn each other of the challenge of loving someone so complicated, then keep shouting “Embrace the love!” as if cheering themselves on. The melody flips between Spanish and English, sweet tenderness and playful teasing, showing how vulnerability can mix with humor when two people are on the edge of something big.
By the time they compare themselves to “two little birds” who scare easily, the message is clear: love is fragile, but it can still soar if you give it time and patience. The duet turns self-doubt into a pep-talk, inviting listeners to accept their own quirks, move slowly, and hold tight to anyone brave enough to stay close when their toes turn icy. It is a heartfelt reminder that courage in love is not the absence of fear, but the decision to keep singing together anyway.
Picture yourself wandering through a cozy library-slash-boutique when, out of nowhere, someone catches your eye. Silvina Moreno sings about that sudden spark, the shared stroll through pasillos de momentos vividos, and the crushing instant when the other person simply walks away. In Ya Lo Entendí ("Now I Understand") she repeats the phrase like a mantra, turning a painful epiphany into a beat you can dance to.
Instead of drowning in tears, Silvina admits the obvious: the feeling is not mutual. Her would-be partner is a wall – if she jumps with open arms, he lets her fall. So she stops "crying a river," quits shouting into a black hole, and decides to spoil herself for a change. The result is a bright, rhythmic declaration of self-worth: understanding the truth hurts, yet it frees you to pick up your pieces, smile, and move on.
“Real” is a dreamy celebration of turning fantasy into flesh. Silvina Moreno starts the story in a rule-free night where she playfully sketches an ideal lover inside her mind. Bit by bit, those mental brushstrokes shape a living person, and before she knows it the imagined figure is standing right in front of her. The chorus bursts with joy at this magical transformation — not only has her wish come true, but the other person was searching for her at the same time, proving the connection is mutual and unmistakably real.
Beneath the sparkly surface, the song is about learning how to handle the very thing you once longed for. Silvina admits she occasionally forgets how wonderful that first vision felt, yet she keeps reminding herself of the gratitude and awe that started it all. “Real” speaks to anyone who has dreamed of love, manifested it, and then faced the beautiful challenge of nurturing it day by day.
“Ahi” by Silvina Moreno is a sunshine-soaked tribute to long-distance love. Each ecstatic “¡Qué lindo!” lists the perks of caring for someone else: from feeling their warmth to forgetting your own ego. Even when kilometers, miles, and anxious waiting threaten to pull the couple apart, Silvina keeps landing on the same joyful conclusion: Sos vos ahí, it’s you there, the person she freely chooses.
At its heart, the song turns distance into an adventure. Love becomes a leap of faith that does not need explanations. Instead of overthinking the why, Silvina leans into what feels right—trust, connection, and the thrill of reuniting in person. The vibrant melody and upbeat rhythm invite listeners to celebrate that optimism, sing along, and let go of doubts while they practice new Spanish expressions for love, distance, and hope.
"Si Desafino" invites us into the bittersweet diary of someone who lost a love so special it still echoes in every off-key note she sings. Silvina Moreno compares her emotional disarray to singing desafinado (out of tune) and moving descoordinada (out of sync). Since the breakup, nothing feels normal, yet she clings to the idea that in another life or even on another island their paths might cross again. The lyrics paint December memories, sudden distance, and the shock of realizing too late what was slipping away.
Through catchy melodies and honest confessions, the song captures that surreal stage after heartbreak when reality seems skewed and self-doubt is loud. By declaring “Si desafino a esta altura da igual”—If I’m off-pitch now, it doesn’t matter—Silvina embraces imperfection as part of healing. It is a relatable anthem for anyone who has ever replayed the past, imagined alternate futures, and tried to find harmony inside chaos.
"Puede Ser" invites us into a dreamy maze of what-ifs and open doors. Throughout the song, Silvina Moreno reflects on those quiet moments when life feels full of unanswered questions: Why hasn’t love arrived yet? What if we already crossed paths with our soulmate but never noticed? Each line circles around possibility—rain that eventually stops, fear that might only be loneliness, and a stranger who could already be standing beside us—reminding us that our stories are still unfolding.
Rather than dwelling on uncertainty, the lyrics sparkle with gentle hope. Moreno suggests that the unknown is not an enemy but a vast landscape waiting to be explored. There is still much to live, she repeats, turning doubt into a promise of new adventures, late-night city wanderings, and the thrilling idea that any moment might reveal the person or the purpose we have been looking for. Listen closely, and you will feel both the tenderness of longing and the quiet confidence that the best chapters are yet to come.
¿Será Una Estupidez? is Silvina Moreno’s funny, fast paced diary entry set to music. Line after line, she unloads a jumble of confessions: crying thirty times a year, hating South American traffic, losing at Nintendo, fearing the passing of time, even binge-watching movie kisses online. Each detail paints the picture of a woman who feels both privileged and insecure, chaotic and grateful. The big question in the chorus — “¿Será una estupidez?” or “Could it be foolish?” — pokes fun at her own doubts while inviting us to laugh at our own quirks too.
At the heart of the song is a sweet realization: she does not have to be perfect for the person she loves. Honesty is enough. By listing every flaw and fear, she flips vulnerability into strength and thanks her partner for embracing the real her. The result is a catchy reminder that self-acceptance grows when someone chooses us as we are.
Imagine being out at sea while a lone lighthouse blinks on the horizon. Its beam is supposed to guide you, yet every time you steer toward it, you end up wrecked on the rocks. That’s the bittersweet picture Silvina Moreno paints in “Faro.” The “quiet lighthouse” stands for an ex-lover whose hypnotic glow once felt like safety but proved dangerously irresistible. His blue light and penetrating eyes dominate her sky, dismantling the emotional fortress she had painstakingly built.
Through the chant-like refrain “No pudo ser” (“It couldn’t be”), the singer drifts between heartbreak and self-preservation. She yearns for the day she stops searching that distant beacon so she can finally anchor in her own harbor instead of waiting in someone else’s darkness. “Faro” is ultimately a call to let go of destructive attraction, reclaim one’s course, and sail into a future where the only guiding light is self-love.
Grab your headphones and dive into Silvina Moreno's No Sé. This reflective ballad pulls us into the singer's late-night maze of feelings, where uncertainty weighs as heavy as the pillow that keeps her company. She questions whether she is truly in love or just addicted to an illusion, and that mixture of longing and doubt turns her into a slave to her own emotions.
The lyrics sketch a vivid tug-of-war between holding on and letting go. Every chorus shows her biggest challenge: releasing a love that exists only in her imagination. By the end we see that the real struggle is not with another person, but with the stories she spins in her head, proving that sometimes the hardest goodbye is to a fantasy.
De Donde Vengo ("Where I Come From") opens like a travel diary in motion. Silvina Moreno is on the second day of a road trip, watching a silver river blur into the sky and breathing in the scent of burning firewood. Each line bursts with nostalgia: flowers that bloom all year, cicadas that turn summer into music, and an unmistakable Argentine accent dancing in the air.
When she repeats, "De donde vengo define quién soy, y aún así no sé a dónde voy" ("Where I come from defines who I am, and yet I still don't know where I'm going"), the song becomes a cheerful meditation on identity. It is a love letter to home and a reminder that we carry our roots in every mile we travel. Perfect for language learners, this track lets you practice words about journeys, memories, and self-discovery while you hum along to its irresistible oh-oh-ohs.