Añicos translates to "shards" or "smithereens", referring to very small, broken pieces of something, often glass. It's a vivid and somewhat dramatic word that isn't used in everyday conversation as frequently as more common terms for 'broken'.
In the song, the lyric "Una noche de cristal que se hace añicos" (A crystal night that shatters into smithereens) creates a powerful image of something beautiful and fragile breaking apart. This word adds a strong visual and emotional impact, making it memorable and enticing for a learner.
"Jijiji" paints a hazy, film-noir kind of night. The singer describes a scene like a movie playing in dim light, with a stranger's tenacious son and an executioner sitting down to dinner as if this were normal. A night of glass shatters into pieces, and the singer keeps insisting none of it was a dream.
The images that follow feel like flashes of memory rather than a straight story: someone running loose and adrift, eyes wide open even though they're described as blind, a mirror giving back a distorted picture. There's a recurring warning running through it all - don't look, don't turn on the light - as if seeing clearly would only make things worse.
A darker undercurrent shows up in the second verse, with kids compared to tiny bombs and a rough path leading to a den where nobody sleeps at night. It reads as a song about danger and disorientation on the street, told through broken, dreamlike images rather than a clear narrative - the kind of night you'd rather not fully remember.