Usufructo is a legal term that refers to the right to use and enjoy the property of another, as long as its substance is not altered. It's a very uncommon word to find in song lyrics, making it particularly interesting.
In the context of the song, the singer says, "No es por aquí, pero es mi único usufructo" (It's not this way, but it's my only usufruct). This suggests a situation where he's engaging in something he knows isn't right or ideal, but it's the only temporary benefit or pleasure he can derive, even if it doesn't truly belong to him or isn't sustainable.
La Petite Mort literally means the little death, a playful French term for the flash of oblivion that follows an orgasm. In this song, José Madero turns that idea into a moody confession. The narrator dives head-first into a whirlwind of smoke, alcohol and tangled sheets, searching for air yet feeling smothered by a naked body that promises passion but not love. The repeated chant “Sigamos mintiéndonos” (let’s keep lying to ourselves) is half anthem, half alarm bell: everyone knows it is the wrong path, but they tumble into it anyway, just for that fleeting rush.
Behind the catchy melody lies a cautionary tale. Each “little death” leaves a bigger emptiness, echoing inside the crypt-like setting of the lyrics where real love simply cannot survive. The world screams “¡No es por ahí!” and still the heart hits the same wall, proving that temporary pleasure cannot fill permanent voids. Madero’s track is equal parts seduction and self-reflection, urging listeners to question whether they are chasing genuine connection or just another exhilarating moment that will vanish with the dawn.