Atracadero literally translates to "docking place" or "mooring". It's a less common word in everyday Spanish, making it stand out in lyrics.
In this song, Jorge Drexler uses it metaphorically. He sings, "aunque no hay ningún atracadero que pueda disolver su escondite" (although there is no docking place that can dissolve its hiding place). Here, it evokes the idea of a safe harbor or a place where one can find rest or resolution, suggesting that some things, like memories or the past, cannot be easily put away or dissolved, even in a place of supposed refuge.
This song, "El Tiempo Está Después" by Jorge Drexler featuring Luciano Supervielle, feels like a journey through memories and reflections, almost like flipping through an old photo album. It starts with simple, almost nostalgic images: "la casa y su perra ya el medio encuentra" [the house and its dog already finds its way] and a train waving from below with "signos de tristeza" [signs of sadness]. It immediately sets a contemplative mood.
Then it shifts to more intense, perhaps darker, recollections. We hear about "aquellas filas infinitas saliendo de central" [those infinite lines leaving central] and a neighborhood called "soledad" [solitude] or even "gritos de terror pidiendo para entrar" [screams of terror asking to enter]. It's a powerful contrast. Despite the difficult memories, there's a hint of hope or continuity with "allí está la primavera" [spring is there]. The song ends with a beautiful, almost philosophical thought: "tendremos suerte si aprendemos que no hay ningún viejo aunque no hay ningún atracadero que pueda disolver su escondite lo que fuimos el tiempo está después" [we'll be lucky if we learn that there's no old man, nor any hiding place that can dissolve what we were, time is afterwards]. It suggests that our past, and who we were, isn't something that disappears; it's always there, in a different kind of time.