4 AM invites us into the neon-lit, slightly blurry realm of late-night feelings, where parties blend with “what are we?” questions. Eladio Carrión watches a woman who claims she is numb to love but inevitably rings him once the liquor, weed and pills kick in. While the bass thumps, he pleads for clarity: decide what you want or at least say goodbye. The repeated 4 a.m. chorus captures that familiar mix of confidence and confusion when the night is almost over and emotions are still wide awake.
Beneath the swagger lies vulnerability. Carrión reminisces about gaming sessions, anime marathons and kisses that prove their bond is deeper than a drunken hookup, even as jealousy creeps in over her “new guy.” The song becomes a bittersweet confession of two people stuck between carefree partying and the need for genuine connection, showing that no amount of smoke, shots or bravado can silence the heart’s late-night calls.