Como Camarón captures the dizzying rush of an infatuation that blurs the line between dream and reality. The singer is hooked on someone whose dark eyes seem almost supernatural, pulling him into a world where time flashes by with a single blink. He wakes up soaked in sweat, unsure if the night of passion ever happened, yet he keeps seeing her everywhere – in mirrors, on the subway walls, even in a bowl of hot soup. The title nods to flamenco icon Camarón de la Isla, famous for ripping open his shirt onstage; here, the narrator feels the same explosive urge to “break his shirt” in a fit of raw emotion.
Under the upbeat rumba-rock rhythm, Estopa paints a portrait of obsession that is equal parts thrilling and exhausting. The lyrics bounce between bravado and vulnerability: one moment the singer scales her like a spider, the next he is too shy to steal a kiss. It is a roller coaster of desire and frustration, love and illusion, set to an irresistibly catchy groove that makes you want to clap, sing, and maybe tear your own shirt in the heat of the moment.