Alboroto translates to 'commotion' or 'ruckus'. It's a vivid word that describes a noisy and disorderly disturbance.
In the song, Mora sings, "La casa en silencio, pero en mi cabeza un alboroto" (The house is silent, but in my head, there's a commotion). This word powerfully conveys the internal chaos and mental turmoil he's experiencing, contrasting with the external quiet. It's a more evocative choice than a common word for 'noise' or 'mess'.
Mora's "DONDE SE APRENDE A QUERER?" [WHERE DO YOU LEARN TO LOVE?] is a really honest look at the messy aftermath of a breakup. He's clearly in a lot of pain, describing his room as still "de luto" [in mourning] and how even pleasures aren't enjoyable anymore. It's like he's stuck in a loop, with his ex's memory riding shotgun in his car: "Tu recuerdo va de pasajero cuando conduzco" [Your memory rides as a passenger when I drive]. He even admits he's arguing with himself now that he's alone, asking the big question, "¿Dónde se aprende a querer?" [Where do you learn to love?].
He's tired of investing in relationships that don't last, saying he's "cansé de comprar recuerdos que después los iba a devolver" [tired of buying memories that I was going to return later]. There's a real struggle with pride too, as he wants to give his ex the benefit of the doubt but "odio perder" [I hate to lose]. He feels like everything he touches falls apart, but he's quick to say it wasn't her fault, he was already "roto" [broken]. The imagery of a quiet house but a chaotic mind, and feeling like two shooting stars that passed too quickly, really hits hard. He's left wondering how to move on, still hoping she'll come back, even though he knows it's over: "Y si fuera por mí, no, pero esto llegó a su fin" [And if it were up to me, no, but this came to an end].