Moirè places you in a dreamy capsule where reality ripples like the hypnotic patterns that give the song its name. The narrator pops “pastillas de zen instantáneo” and suddenly feels weightless and loose, as if gravity has been switched off. Inside this private spacecraft, pain is only a fading echo, his voice softens, and the outer world is reduced to distant thunder. The lyrics paint a vivid contrast between the chaotic cosmos beyond the hatch and the calm, almost psychedelic sanctuary within.
At the heart of this floating refuge is a surprising confession of love: “Odios, vos te amo… Oh, Dios, te amo.” The song suggests that in moments of deep introspection or altered perception, sharp opposites can blur—hate flips to love, noise melts into silence, and fear dissolves into tenderness. “Moirè” becomes a sonic meditation on escape and connection, inviting listeners to close their own hatches, drift above the turbulence, and rediscover affection in the shimmering quiet of inner space.