Imagine sharing the same train carriage with your secret crush every single day. In Jueves (Thursday), La Oreja de Van Gogh paints the tender picture of a shy young woman who silently adores the boy who always sits across from her on the morning commute. She wonders if being “prettier, smarter, special” would give her the courage to cross the aisle, yet days slip by in a quiet ballet of glances, skipped breaths and trembling hands. The lyrics capture that universal mix of hope and nerves we feel when love grows in secret, turning an ordinary ride between stations into a private, heart-racing adventure.
Everything changes on 11 March – a real date forever linked with the 2004 Madrid train attacks. The narrator finally breaks the silence, stammering his name just as destiny deals its tragic hand. In the darkness of a tunnel the two strangers confess their feelings, share their first kiss and, in the next heartbeat, offer each other “the last breath of my heart.” The song is at once a sweet ode to seizing the moment and a poignant reminder of life’s fragility; it celebrates the bravery of speaking up, the magic of unexpected love and the heartbreak of how quickly everything can fade.