Imagine you are cuddling on the couch when a chilling hunch forces you to pause the romance, grab a coat, light a cigarette, and—boom—you notice a missile quietly parked in your closet. That surreal image fuels “Un Misil En Mi Placard,” Soda Stereo’s playful but nerve-tingling tale of finding danger where comfort should be. The lyrics dart from intimacy to paranoia, turning a simple living-room scene into a mini thriller that keeps you guessing what is real, what is imagined, and why on earth a warhead is sharing wardrobe space with winter sweaters.
Under the catchy guitar riffs lies a clever metaphor. The missile represents the hidden anxieties that can explode in any relationship or society. In early-80s Argentina, memories of dictatorship and Cold-War fears still lingered, and Gustavo Cerati captures that atmosphere with wit: the threat is packaged as a “model kit” you can assemble but never safely disarm. The song invites listeners to dance, laugh, and think all at once—because sometimes the scariest things are the ones you keep right beside your favorite clothes.