Silenciador translates to "silencer" or "muffler". It's an intriguing word because it evokes a sense of mystery and hidden danger, which is quite uncommon in a pop song.
In the lyrics, the singer asks, "¿El que imaginé en un vuelo al sol o el que disparó con silenciador?" (The one I imagined on a flight to the sun or the one who shot with a silencer?). This stark contrast between a hopeful, bright image and a dark, secretive one makes the word stand out and adds a layer of complexity to the song's narrative about a complicated relationship.
Final Feliz opens on a string of impossible either/ors — a lion or a Persian cat, a flight toward the sun or a shot fired with a silencer, "¿O a la vez el peón y el rey?" [Or both the pawn and the king?] — Amaia Montero refusing to pin down who she's singing to, or who she is to them.
The chorus is where the song actually lands: "París sin ti es un traje de novia de color gris" [Paris without you is a gray wedding dress], a wedding dress with the white drained out of it. She's only "Fingir que te puedo decir que no" [Pretending I can tell you no], stretching things out until "un beso justo antes de la palabra 'Fin'" [a kiss just before the word "End"] — holding on not because it's working, but because ending it means admitting it's over. One image sums up the trade: love reduced to "un mi menor" [an E minor], a chord change instead of a person.