Aspiration is Zaho de Sagazan’s smoky confession booth, where every breath in becomes a tug-of-war between creativity and craving. The title itself plays on French: aspiration is both the act of inhaling and the spark of inspiration. Over a hypnotic loop, the singer admits that a few drags from her jolie cigarette seem to unlock ideas, yet they also pull her into a dizzying spiral. That inner voice keeps whispering, promising just one last puff, but the “last” never arrives.
Beneath the catchy repetition lies a raw portrait of addiction’s vicious cycle. Each verse mirrors the previous one, underlining how habits replay like a broken record: momentary calm, quick rush of ideas, then the return of guilt and longing. The song feels at once intimate and universal, capturing that delicate line where comfort turns to compulsion. Whether you wrestle with cigarettes, caffeine, or any other fix, “Aspiration” reminds us how easy it is to romanticize our vices—and how hard it is to finally put them down.