Ki An Se Thelo - George Dalaras

Though i want you, though you want me, nothing come of it,

to the main mast we are tied fast.

With your arms in the air, alone you’re dancing,

and you bind me and unbind me and always you trick me.

On feet drunken and without shoes

in a play without an ending you are always rehearsing.

Though I want you, though you want me, nothing come of it,

to the main mast we are tied.

With your arms raised high you are reaching for somewhere,

an invisible ribbon you are stretching to catch.

With your eyes closed you look right trough me

like a wide open book you are reading me.