Jorge Drexler turns a jealous snoop through a partner's phone or computer into a little techno-tragedy. It opens with a list of regrets: "Aquel mensaje que no debió haber leído" (that message they shouldn't have read) and "Aquel botón que no debió haber pulsado" (that button they shouldn't have pressed). The person thought they could handle it, but one afternoon they opened "aquella caja de Pandora" (that Pandora's box), the old Greek myth of a box that releases every trouble once you lift the lid.
The chorus is the clever part. Obsession "desencripta lo críptico" (decrypts the cryptic) and "vence a la máquina" (beats the machine), because "tarde o temprano nada es secreto" (sooner or later nothing is secret) in the vericuetos of computing. Vericuetos is a lovely word: twisty, hard-to-reach paths. The damage is specific and a bit painful to read: in three weeks that felt like years they lost sleep and "cinco kilos" (five kilos), and the phrases keep coming back in flashbacks of jealousy. He even calls the snooper "un craquer celoso" (a jealous cracker), a hacker who breaks in. No password survives that, he says, and he's probably right.