From the very first strum, Morat plunges us into a bittersweet confession of regret. The Colombian Folk-Pop quartet paints the picture of a lover who let pride win the battle, only to realize—too late—that the real victory would have been staying. We hear about sleepless nights, bruised knees from begging, and a desperate wish to spin time backward. The catchy beat keeps things light, yet the lyrics admit raw mistakes: ignoring “I love you,” going deaf to a partner’s pleas, and losing the right to that special gaze.
At its heart, Nunca Te Olvidé is a hopeful apology wrapped in nostalgia. The singer knows his name no longer sparks butterflies, but he still clings to the idea that memories can outlast pride. While verses list the damage—three months of silence, cobwebbed “maybes,” fading sighs—the chorus insists on one shining truth: “Nunca te olvidé” (“I never forgot you”). It is a plea for a second chance, a reminder that love can survive even when memory falters, and a danceable lesson that courage beats cowardice every time.