Fantasmas turns a house into a time-machine of feelings. Humbe walks through rooms where every corner flashes like an old photo projector: laughter, triumphs, shared drinks, even the ominous circling of vultures over lost dreams. He insists that there are no ghosts here – only the vivid echoes of people and moments that once filled the place with life. The song feels like paging through a scrapbook at 3 a.m. – half-asleep, half-awake – while trying to decide whether to smile or cry.
Beneath its dreamy melody, the track is really a conversation with absence. Humbe wrestles with the pain of distance, the inevitability of death, and the wish for one last toast with someone who is now out of reach. Rather than surrender to despair, he chooses celebration: honoring memories, accepting farewells, and discovering that immortality hides in the stories we keep telling. The result is a bittersweet anthem that turns mourning into music and reminds us that what haunts us often keeps us alive.