Heartbreak has never sounded so playfully tragic. In Vuelve, Ivan Cornejo admits that breaking up left him feeling like an unwashed dish and even his breakfast tastes fake. Over mournful guitars and a laid-back Regional Mexican groove, he lays out a string of vivid confessions: since his lover left, he feels half-alive, messes everything up, and sinks into depression whenever memories resurface. The singer’s world has turned into a glitchy matrix where nothing – not even a substitute romance or a bowl of cereal – can replicate the warmth she gave him.
At its core, the song is a pleading love letter. Cornejo begs his ex to return before she falls for someone else, promising that life was better back when he had nothing to worry about except the safety of his mother’s womb. His honest, sometimes humorous metaphors (“I speed up like a dog when I see you”) soften the sorrow, making Vuelve both relatable and oddly comforting. It’s a bittersweet anthem for anyone who has felt like everything is artificial once real love walks away.