Horizontes translates to "horizons." It's a beautiful and evocative word that paints a picture of vastness and possibility.
In "Pasa El Tiempo," Caloncho sings about seeing "cientos de horizontes vimos cambiar" (hundreds of horizons we saw change). This line suggests a journey through time and space, witnessing countless sunrises and sunsets, and the passage of many moments. It's a poetic way to express the experience of time passing and the world evolving around us.
Caloncho wrote "Pasa El Tiempo" as a quiet argument with time itself. He opens with the plain fact of it — "Pasa el tiempo aquí, y no regresa" [Time passes here, and it doesn't return] — then immediately complicates it: he doesn't want to leave, but wants what left to come back. That tension carries the whole song: rather than resolve it, he chooses to live inside it, singing "Así que disfruto de lo que me pasa hoy" [So I enjoy what happens to me today] while still not knowing if he's staying or going.
The middle section turns the lyric toward someone specific. "Con el mundo de antes, he venido a buscarte" [With the world from before, I have come to find you] frames the search as a return to an old world, not a new one, and "Cientos de horizontes vimos cambiar de color al regresar el sol al mar" [Hundreds of horizons we saw change color as the sun returned to the sea] gives that old world a single recurring image — a sunset over the water — instead of naming the memory outright. By the closing lines the tense has shifted from lived-in to remembered: "Pasó el tiempo así, y no recuerdas que era tan feliz" [Time passed like this, and you don't remember that it was so happy] — and the song ends on a plain, almost domestic plea, "Vamos, regresa, o por ti o por mí" [Come on, come back, either for you or for me], asking for the return not as a grand gesture but as something owed to whichever of them needs it more.