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Interpretation of “You're drunk my heart” by Giorgos Michas

I discovered this song today and felt the need to write about it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6miQPiY7Z8.

Below are the original lyrics, my translation of them, and some philosophical comments.

Μέθυσες καρδιά μου

Ερμηνεία:  Γιώργος Μίχας
Στίχοι:    Γιώργος Μίχας
Μουσική:   Γιώργος Μίχας

Χάρτινες βαρκούλες τα κορμιά
θάλασσες δεμένες με σκοινιά
νύχτες που λικνίζονται μες στο φως
κι ο ουρανός τους λάσπη και βυθός

Σκόνη οι μέρες κι ο άνεμος θρασύς
πόσο να πεθάνεις αν δεν ζεις
Κρύφτηκε η φλόγα στο ψυγείο
κι ο έρωτας χτυπιέται στο φορείο

Μέθυσες καρδιά μου απ' το κενό
τόσοι σε κοιτούν αλλά σε βλέπω μόνο εγώ
Δυο ευθείες παράλληλες εμείς
κι όμως θα συναντηθούμε αν το πιστέψεις

αν το πεις

Πέτρωσε η φωνή στην άρνησή σου
κι οι ρουφιάνοι όλοι ήτανε μαζί σου
Η χαρά μια χώρα που ποτέ δε βρήκα
η αγάπη σα κεντρί από μια σφήκα

τρελαμένα τα ανθρωπάκια πάνω κάτω
θα γαμήσουνε το σύμπαν για ένα πιάτο
Θα χορέψουν θα γελάσουν λυσσασμένα
και δεκάρα δεν θα δώσουνε για σένα

Μέθυσες καρδιά μου απ' το κενό
τόσοι σε κοιτούν αλλά σε βλέπω μόνο εγώ
Δυο ευθείες παράλληλες εμείς
κι όμως θα συναντηθούμε αν το πιστέψεις

αν το πεις
You're drunk my heart

Performance:  Giorgos Michas
Lyrics:       Giorgos Michas
Music:        Giorgos Michas

Paper boats are the bodies
seas tied with ropes
nights that oscillate in the light
and their sky mud and depths

Dust are the days and the wind rude
how much can you die if you are not alive
The fire hid in the fridge
and love at first sight gets hit on the stretcher

You're drunk my heart by the void
so many stare at you though only I see you
Two straight parallels are we
yet we will meet if you believe it

if you say it

The voice petrified by your refusal
and the ruffians were all there beside you
Happiness is a land I did not find
and love is like the sting of the bumblebee

Maddened the petty humans up and down
they'll fuck the universe for a dish
they'll dance, they'll smile rabidly
and won't give a penny about you

You're drunk my heart by the void
so many stare you though only I see you
Two straight parallels are we
yet we will meet if you believe it

if you say it

What I like about You’re drunk my heart is its authenticity and the simplicity therein. I get the sense that Giorgos is not merely voicing those lyrics, but is reliving memories, sharing with us the distillation of the accumulated knowledge.

To liken bodies to boats made out of paper is to acknowledge the fact that we are all breakable. We do remain afloat, though barely so. The metaphor also speaks to our lack of control in the grand scheme of things. We are the product of events beyond our control; circumstances that contribute to our presence yet remain outside the scope of our volition. To think we can choose whatever we want is to conflate situational privilege with general actuality. It burdens us and sets us up for failure by inducing a false sense of guilt and worthlessness.

[ Read: Comment on Seneca’s adoption of new parents and conversing with sages. ]

Yet our powerlessness is only rendered clear in juxtaposition to the Cosmos. In our immediate affairs, we are capable of great deeds; deeds that every hitherto establishment is bent on exploiting. The hubris of deranged tyrants rests in the belief that the sea can indeed be enslaved. Such is the human potential that it will find the means to undo whatever panopticon. Though here too, we are basically saying the same thing: we are not in control of our creativity either. We do not get to choose our talents, inclinations, and dispositions. What we get is yet another paper boat. It floats and may go somewhere, though its captain still cannot chart whatever course on a whimsy.

[ Read: Interpretation of “Sophie” (The wild crowd) by Vasilis Papakonstantinou. ]

Giorgos asks “how much can you die if you are not alive”. While I can relate to that sentiment, I think we always have something to lose, even when we feel long dead inside. We prefer certain outcomes over others, the company of our pet over solitude, singing over silence. We can only be content when we accept what we get, the way it is, for as long as it is. Start enumerating everything you missed: a lifetime will not be enough to compile such a list. We die more with each new unfulfilled desire. It was a stare, it was a smile, it is no more. Let go!

Happiness is a land we cannot visit because there is no refuge for those who seek that which is landless. Dreams can take us far and wide, to explore enchanted groves, partake in the rituals of mages, and behold the crimson moons. Yet none of those wonders can sate our appetite for more. Instead of being thankful for bearing witness to new possibilities, we ask for another round and, ultimately, beg for the overdose. Acceptance is what underpins restraint.

[ Read: No land for you. Watch: Comments on Dao #2 (on moderation and the Delphic maxims). ]

We do not recognise our paper boat reality, blithely leaving destruction in our wake. The average person does not admit to their transient presence on this patch of earth. There was a before and there will be an after. We believe we can get away with our profligacy. The gods will happily let humanity find its demise. When the reason we are endowed with is apparently failing to deter us, some greater force will.

The heart of the sensitive person is overwhelmed by all this, yet few can figure as much. The “how are you?” meets an eager “fine, thanks!”, followed by a smile. There is enough trouble already. Yet marginalisation, even with altruistic intentions, comes with the latent risk of twisting the perception of the person into thinking they are somehow better or worse than the rest. Such is the state of drunkenness. Sometimes the stares and the smiles must last a little longer.

I think Giorgos has done a remarkable job with You’re drunk my heart. Art shows us the power of honesty while the artist reminds us that wisdom does not come ex officio.