Learn Spanish With Morat with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
“No Se Va” turns heartsick longing into an irresistible folk-pop sing-along. The Colombian band Morat paints the picture of someone who falls in love easily yet struggles terribly to forget. The title means “It doesn’t leave,” and that stubborn presence is the ex-lover’s memory, still flashing in photos, phone calls never answered, and daydreams that stretch “from Bogotá to Buenos Aires.”
With upbeat guitars and hand-claps laced through bittersweet lyrics, the song balances hope and heartache. Every emphatic “Quédate” (“Stay”) shows the narrator’s refusal to let go, convinced that “un amor así no se olvida” (“a love like this is never forgotten”). Even as he vows to “train his broken heart” for a chance encounter tomorrow, the refrain circles back to the same truth: the memory may hurt, but it simply no se va — it will not go away.
Yo Contigo, Tú Conmigo bursts with the electric feeling of meeting someone who seems instantly familiar - as if destiny itself has been waiting to make the introduction. From the opening “¿Por qué, por qué, por qué?” the singers wonder why they feel the other person’s presence everywhere: in the mirror, in their own voice, even when they stand alone. The chorus flips that curiosity into confidence. Side by side, they promise to shout to the sky, rewrite any story, and turn the whole world upside-down if that is what it takes to stay together.
At its heart, this pop anthem is a rallying cry for partnership. Morat and Álvaro Soler celebrate the unbeatable strength that comes from unity – two voices fusing into one fearless force. No matter the obstacles (wind, oceans, or a silencing crowd), the pair vows to push forward, louder and stronger. The playful “gon gon goro gon gon” hook drives home the joy of the connection, turning their pledge into an unforgettable chant. In short, the song is pure optimism: you with me, me with you, and nothing is impossible.
In Cuando Nadie Ve, Colombian folk-pop group Morat turns clandestine longing into a sunny yet heartbreaking anthem. One moment the singer basks in an endless summer, melted by a single look; the next, that warmth freezes into winter when he discovers someone else waiting in her arms. The melody keeps things light and catchy, but the words reveal a tug-of-war between hope and cold reality.
The story is all about a love that must stay undercover. In public, the pair wear friendly masks — "fingir que somos amigos" — while their hearts race in secret. They rehearse excuses for nosy friends, dodge the stray bullets of gossip, and promise to give everything once the world looks away. It is a dance of fire and ice, a bittersweet celebration of those stolen moments when nobody is watching, wrapped in rhythms that invite you to sing, sway, and sharpen your Spanish at the same time.
Have you ever finally patched up a broken heart, only for your ex to knock on the door as if nothing happened? That is exactly the emotional roller-coaster Morat sings about in “Cómo Te Atreves.” The Colombian band tells the story of someone who spent years healing after a painful breakup—counting the months, postcards, and broken promises—only to see the former lover appear again. Shocked and indignant, the narrator demands, “How dare you come back?” He feels betrayed, remembers every moment of loneliness, yet discovers that his claim of being over her was a lie.
The song blends frustration and lingering affection. On one hand, our storyteller calls out her fickle loyalty to “the wind” and insists she has no right to “raise the ashes into fire” again. On the other hand, he admits he still cares, sensing that his bravado is crumbling. With catchy folk-pop rhythms and spirited percussion, Morat turns a tale of unresolved love into an anthemic sing-along, inviting listeners to shout their own “¡Cómo te atreves!” while secretly wondering whether they, too, would open the door if the past came knocking.
Imagine squeezing every sunset, kiss, and secret into the tiniest slice of time. "Por Si No Te Vuelvo A Ver" is Morat’s heartfelt reminder that love is not about how long it lasts, but how fully we live it while it’s here. Over pop rhythms and warm Colombian storytelling, the lyrics picture two travelers in Andalusia who already feel autumn’s chill creeping in. They know their paths may split when September comes, yet they decide to celebrate every remaining moment, refusing to leave a single story untold.
Morat sings about pausing the clock, sharing every stolen dawn, and freezing memories “frente al mar” so that distance, even as far as Neptune, can never erase them. It is a joyful, slightly melancholic anthem that invites us to love boldly, speak openly, and kiss freely – just in case we never get the chance again.
506 invites us to pick up the phone to the past. Morat and Juanes spin the story of a late-night call to an old sweetheart who once lived in apartment 506. Instantly, memories flood back: scribbling phone numbers on paper, lazy afternoons glued to a TV that no one was watching, and the electric rush of first love at sixteen. The narrator dials almost by instinct, hoping to hear a familiar voice and to check if anything has truly changed. As the ringtone echoes, he lists the tiny details that used to define her—summer trips to Cartagena, a fear of flying—proving that love may fade, but memories keep perfect score.
Yet the song is not simply a nostalgic postcard; it is a confession of vulnerability. The moment she answers, the reasons for the breakup vanish from his mind. All that matters is the warmth of her “Hello” and the reminder of why they once believed love could last forever. “506” balances wistful longing with a playful, folk-pop bounce, making listeners sway while reflecting on those people we never quite stop caring about, no matter how many songs—or years—hide them away.
Ready to march into the battlefield of love? In Besos en Guerra, Colombian folk-pop sensations Morat link up with iconic rocker Juanes to turn heartbreak into an epic adventure. The title means “Kisses in War”, and from the opening line the singers reject the idea that love can be forgotten easily. Romance becomes a combat zone filled with irresistible kisses that can both heal and destroy, while the bright guitars and pounding drums echo the rhythm of marching feet.
Lyrically, the song follows someone who knows perfectly well that their lover’s kisses are lethal, yet still dives back into the fray. Promises sting, forgiveness is off the table, and every embrace steals another heartbeat. Even so, the narrator vows to win the war, insisting that dying of love is better than living without it. Playful, bittersweet, and proudly dramatic, the track reminds us that true passion often comes with battle scars—and that sometimes we choose to lose just to feel alive.
"Sin Ti" throws us into that all-too-familiar post-breakup performance where we swear we are totally over our ex… while clinging to every memory. Morat and Jay Wheeler give voice to a heart that has turned self-deception into a full-time job: deleting photos, memorizing excuses, even convincing itself that being “better off drunk” is a victory. Each line mixes swagger with confession, showing how denial becomes a survival tool when love feels lethal.
Beneath the bravado lies a raw truth: pretending not to hurt can hurt even more. The song reveals the tug-of-war between the stories we tell others and the feelings we still hide from ourselves, reminding us that sometimes you have to fake forgetting before you can really let go. Listeners ride a bittersweet wave of catchy rhythms and vulnerable lyrics that prove the hardest person to convince you are fine is… you.
Aprender A Quererte is a heartfelt confession where Morat paints love as an exciting class you never want to skip. From the very first glance, the singer feels a mix of fear and madness, convinced that losing this person would mean losing the greatest treasure. He admits he knows nothing about their past, yet he is ready to pick up his pen—spelling mistakes and all—to study every detail, read every dream, and learn how to love them the way they deserve.
Throughout the song, Morat promises a relationship full of “more additions than subtractions,” where there are no unanswered questions, only solutions shared together. It is a pledge to invest time, honesty, and patience so that both partners not only love each other, but also miss each other in the healthiest way. In short, the track turns romance into a beautiful lifelong syllabus: understand their dreams, write honest lyrics, and stay by their side without rest.
Faltas Tú is Morat’s bittersweet postcard from the edge of a breakup. With playful comparisons—“a galaxy without stars,” “a shoe without its sock”—the Colombian pop band paints how utterly incomplete life feels when that special someone is gone. Every party is pointless, every street sounds empty, and even the simplest outing “tastes like nothing” because her absence has turned the singer into “a zero on the left,” an expression in Spanish for feeling useless.
Yet beneath the self-deprecating humor and raw frustration, there’s stubborn hope. He keeps most of her messages, refuses to be “the loser who doesn’t insist,” and clings to the belief that she is “one in a million” who will eventually return. The song swings between resignation and resolve, capturing heartbreak’s exhausting loop: missing, remembering, resisting, and—above all—waiting for the day when she’s back and life can finally run at 100 percent again.
"En Un Sólo Día" drops us into a cozy, time-worn bar where a shy protagonist musters the courage to say “Would you like to dance?”. The moment their hands meet, the room fills with the swirl of bachata, merengue, and classic boleros. Between whispered conversation and playful bumps of their bodies, Cupid quietly draws his bow, turning an ordinary night into a heart-pounding adventure on the dance floor. The vibrant Latin rhythms mirror the rush of discovering someone who instantly feels familiar.
When the music fades and the dancers part ways, the real surprise hits: in just one day and a single dance, he already misses her as if they had shared a lifetime. The song captures that magical instant where emotion overrules logic, routine, and every “rule” about taking things slow. It celebrates love-at-first-sight, reminding us that sometimes all it takes is a spark, a song, and a dance to feel completely, wonderfully hooked.
Feel the rush of a summer romance that begins with a single glance! In “A Dónde Vamos” Morat tells the tale of two strangers who lock eyes in Madrid and instantly feel as if they have known each other for a thousand years. The singer compares the first taste of love to the most delicious drink imaginable, describing how every sip (or kiss) leaves him happily intoxicated. What starts as a spontaneous question — “Where are we going?” — quickly turns into an adventure that beats all the odds, proving that love at first sight can survive beyond the holiday glow.
Beneath the upbeat rhythm, the lyrics explore destiny, luck, and the magic of living in the moment. Instead of planning every detail, the couple chooses to stay together, keep celebrating, and see where life takes them. Their story reminds listeners that sometimes the best journeys begin with a bold confession and a leap of faith. So press play, let the music sweep you away, and ask yourself the same exciting question: ¿A dónde vamos?
Mi Vida Entera is Morat’s playful invitation to dive head-first into an all-or-nothing romance. The singer admits he is petrified on stage and that locking eyes with his lover burns, yet he still promises to melt her heart of stone, chase away her troubles, and turn winter into spring. The message is clear: choose courage over caution, because if you marry a crazy man, you will see the magic little by little.
When the chorus arrives, that courage becomes a dance. The lovers spin until words and kisses blur, begging time to let this song last my whole life. Saying I love you is not enough—they want total commitment, a fairy-tale ending written by their footsteps on the dance floor. It is a celebration of recklessly hopeful love, where risking everything is the only way to gain everything.
Have you ever felt that spark of destiny in the middle of an ordinary night out? "Simplemente Pasan" captures that exact thrill. In a cozy, familiar bar, a shy admirer spots a woman who keeps returning to the same spot, always effortlessly charming with her natural look. He dreams of asking her to dance a classic Juan Luis Guerra tune, of wandering the city together, beers in hand, with only the stars as witnesses. The chorus reminds us that the best things in life do not need planning or perfection—they simply happen.
As the song unfolds, time circles back to the same bar, the same hour, and another chance. This time, hope speaks louder: What is the worst that could happen? Maybe they will like each other, maybe they even knew each other in a past life. Morat’s heartfelt storytelling, joined by Cami’s soulful voice, turns a small moment into a celebration of serendipity, courage, and the belief that when something good is meant to be, no force can stop it—it just happens.
Ready for a love sequel? In "Punto Y Aparte", Colombian band Morat turns heartbreak into a cliff-hanger. The narrator meets an old flame after months of regret, carrying the weight of every unsent letter and every tear caused by his departure. Now that fate has brought them face-to-face, he is determined to press pause on the past and start a brand-new paragraph of their story. The title literally means “period and apart”, the Spanish way of saying new paragraph—perfect for a song about wiping the slate clean.
Morat mixes raw confession with fiery promises: he owns up to “el tiempo perdido” (the time lost), vows never to let go of her hands, and is even willing to put his own in the fire if that is what it takes. The chorus feels like an emotional sprint, fueled by lines such as “yo nunca me cansé de amarte” (I never got tired of loving you). Every verse shouts that second chances are worth the risk, no matter how much the ashes might sting. By the end, you can almost hear the suitcase hit the floor and the pen scratch out a fresh chapter—punto y aparte, let the next sentence of their love begin!
Salir Con Vida throws us right into that electrifying moment when someone you never expected suddenly sees you. Morat and fellow Colombian hit-maker Feid paint the scene: a crowded night, dark windows, bottles popping, smoke in the air, and two strangers whose eyes lock against all odds. The singer feels it is more likely for the sun to stop rising than for this instant to happen, yet here they are, glued together on the dance floor while reggaeton drums keep hearts racing.
Beneath the party lights, though, lies a confession packed with vulnerability. Salir con vida literally means “to get out alive,” and the chorus begs the new love not to leave, because surviving the aftermath would feel impossible. Kisses, memories, and late-night videos become lifelines; forgetting them would be “an act of suicide.” This mix of steamy nightlife and raw emotion makes the track both a dance-ready anthem and a heartfelt plea to hold on to a love that feels too good—and too vital—to lose.
Santa Fe turns a breakup into a nail-biting soccer match. The night his girlfriend walks away, Morat’s beloved team Santa Fe also loses to arch-rivals Millonarios, so heartbreak and defeat get stamped on the same calendar date. Every verse uses stadium imagery: he reviews her call in the VAR, feels out of place when she scores on him, and refuses to step back on the pitch for fear of another injury. Shots of liquor become penalty kicks, and the empty trophy case mirrors the emptiness she left behind.
Beneath the clever sports talk lies a simple truth: he still cannot move on. Months later he spots her on a corner of the city, happily teamed up with someone else, and realizes his season is far from over. Until a new “championship” begins, he is stuck replaying that painful match, hoping the whistle will finally blow on the void she created.
In De Cero, Colombian band Morat sings about that awkward limbo after a breakup when both people know they are better apart yet secretly hope for a sequel. The narrator admits that they once hurt each other and now only feel "allowed" to talk on birthdays, but deep inside they believe their shared history is an unbeatable advantage. Why start over with someone new when you already speak your ex’s love language? He proudly calls himself an "expert" at reading her moods—he knows the perfect moment for a kiss or when to swap it for a hug.
The song’s bittersweet charm lies in its mix of realism and optimism. Morat recognizes that moving on is healthy, but also confesses a wish: if they ever cross paths again, they will not have to begin "from zero." The only real fear is being forgotten. Until then, the singer keeps faith that love—and perhaps a little help from the heavens—will grant them another chance to pick up right where the last chorus faded out.
Imagine being so head-over-heels that you dial a live radio show just to beam your feelings through the speakers. That is exactly what happens in Al Aire. The shy protagonist has no courage to confess face to face, so he trades his “fifteen minutes of fame” for the hope that she is somewhere, headphones on, catching his voice as he sends “besos al aire” — kisses floating through the airwaves. Every lyric vibrates with sweet anxiety, turning the radio into both cupid and confessional.
Morat’s folk-pop warmth wraps this quirky love plan in bright guitars and sing-along hooks. Beneath the playful surface lies a universal message: sometimes love demands a leap, even if that leap is nothing more than a phone call and a song request. With a wink and a wistful sigh, Al Aire celebrates the courage it takes to speak up before the next song — or the next moment — slips away.
Grab your heartstrings and a cup of Colombian coffee! In Enamórate De Alguien Más, Morat wrap their signature folk-pop warmth around a bittersweet confession. The narrator realizes that self-care means letting go, yet every memory of a past love feels too vivid to erase. Instead of fighting the impossible, he pleads for the ex to fall for someone else, hoping the finality will give him permission to heal.
Beneath the catchy rhythms you will find a tug-of-war between hope and resignation. Lines like “Reemplázame que no soy capaz de olvidarte” show his vulnerability: he cannot move on unless she helps by shutting him out. It is a request born from love, pride, and pain all at once. Morat turn this emotional maze into a sing-along anthem, reminding us that sometimes the bravest way to love yourself is to ask the other person to walk away.
"París" tosses you into a roller-coaster of love, frustration, and self-reflection. Morat’s warm folk-pop guitars meet Duki’s urban punch to tell the story of a couple who could have lit up Paris, yet end up surrounded by emotional smoke. The narrator is first pushed away then pulled back into a “battle,” only to realize that all the blame-shifting is a mirage. With the hook “No te mientas, el problema eres tú,” he flips the mirror on his partner: she wants flowers then burns them, asks for devotion then calls it indifference. Each line turns the spotlight on contradictory demands that make true connection impossible.
Duki’s verse spices things up with pop-culture flair—Messi, Jordan sneakers, diamonds—showing just how far he would have gone to revive the romance. Still, both voices land on the same hard truth: love should not be a gamble that always ends in pain. The heart of the song is liberation—recognizing a toxic dynamic, setting boundaries, and accepting losses as lessons. “París” becomes an anthem for anyone ready to trade unhealthy passion for self-respect, all while dancing to an irresistibly catchy beat.
Bajo La Mesa is a playful confession wrapped in Morat’s signature folk-pop warmth and Sebastián Yatra’s smooth romantic flair. Picture two people sitting across from each other in a buzzing café: one slips off a shoe and brushes the other’s foot, pretending it was an accident. From that cheeky touch springs a tidal wave of unspoken feelings. The narrator is shy, words stick in his throat, yet every glance and every accidental-on-purpose brush under the table shouts what he cannot say out loud. The song turns ordinary moments—a final beer, a shared stare—into proof that fate is nudging them together.
As the chorus swells, he stops hiding and dares his crush to admit the obvious: “Yo sé que tú sientes algo por mí.” Why fight a love their kisses already confirm? If she walks out without him, he warns, her memory will follow him everywhere like lost stars fading at dawn. Bajo La Mesa is ultimately about that electric instant when secrecy feels sillier than honesty, when a single touch under the table sparks the courage to say, “I want you to leave with me.” It is a joyful reminder that sometimes the heart speaks louder than words—and that the best love stories can start with a little footsie.