This song opens like a bad dream. Vanesa Martín has lost her shoes running down a corridor at midnight ("He perdido los zapatos", I've lost my shoes) and ends up in a square "Con seis puertas y no supe decidir" (with six doors, and I couldn't decide). Each door is a version of her life: "Una es la que me abandona" (one is the one that abandons me), "Otra siempre me retoma" (another always takes me back), two are contradictions, a fifth is still to be opened, and the last "es un circo" (is a circus) where "Nada está domesticado" (nothing is tamed).
The chorus is the honest bit. She is afraid of two opposite things at once: "Miedo a no verme" (fear of not seeing myself) and "Miedo a verme de más" (fear of seeing too much of myself). Then comes "No debo confesar que el tiempo al pasar duele" (I shouldn't confess that time hurts as it goes by), which is a confession anyway. The verses get messy on purpose: laughter with "alijos de champán" (stashes of champagne), and "Vomité en los callejones" (I threw up in the alleys), a blunt line you don't expect in a ballad. She ends on something very relatable: "Soy de las que el día de antes / Siempre estudia para nota" (I'm one of those who, the day before, always studies for top marks). In Spain, estudiar para nota means aiming for a high grade, not just a pass, and here it's her perfectionism talking.