It is three in the morning and Paris is blurring at the edges. In Là Je Suis Saoule, French singer-songwriter Clio lets us perch beside her on a bar-stool of emotions. Tipsy, cigarette in hand, she confesses she has nothing glamorous to give—only crumbs of herself, a pounding headache, and a heart that spills over with love. The city lights drown in the night just as she feels she might, yet she reassures:
C’est pas le monde qui s’écroule, c’est juste moi qui plie.
The world is steady; it is only her bending under the weight of feelings and alcohol.
As the verses drift, the buzz becomes a mirror for time itself. Clio counts her years, jokes that she has already been fifteen twice, and fears she might drown in her own age. Still, between red eyes and self-doubt, she uncovers a tender truth: life is sweet—so sweet she wishes for twelve of them—and her love remains “à la folie,” mad and sincere. The song is a bittersweet toast to vulnerability, reminding us that even on nights when we feel small and unsteady, affection and the simple sweetness of living can keep us afloat.