Rasgándome is a dramatic and poetic word from the verb rasgar, meaning "to tear" or "to rip". You won't find this intense verb in your average textbook.
In the song, Yatra sings "Rasgándome la voz" (Tearing my voice), creating a powerful image of someone singing with such raw pain and desperation that their voice becomes hoarse. It's a beautiful, metaphorical way to express profound heartbreak and the physical toll of sorrow.
Have you ever kept your mouth shut when you should have shouted? That is the exact regret driving Colombian singer Sebastián Yatra and Spain's Pablo Alborán in "Contigo" (With You). The track kicks off with a heavy morning routine: "Otra vez una mañana y duele despertar" ("Another morning and it hurts to wake up") and "en el mismo café" ("in the same coffee shop"). But the real gut punch is the confession of everything left unsaid: "Nunca dije: 'no te vayas'" ("I never said: 'don't go'") and "Nunca dije que lo siento y sí que lo sentí" ("I never said I'm sorry, and I really did feel it"). Notice that little Spanish trick: "sí que lo sentí". Tossing sí que before a verb adds emphatic force, like insisting "I did feel it!" to an empty room.
From there, the song turns into a desperate public search. The singer describes "Rasgándome la voz / Buscándote y cantando entre la gente" ("Tearing my voice / Looking for you and singing through the crowd"), hoping you will recognize him through the noise. It feels dramatic, maybe even a little obsessive when he admits to staring at window glass and mistaking an illusion for reality ("mirando el cristal / Creyendo en tu reflejo irreal"). Yet phrases like "el nudo en la garganta" ("the lump in the throat") keep it grounded in physical grief. It is a big, open-hearted plea from two vocalists who would give up everything just to wake up next to the person they let slip away.