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Ciceline

de VanWyck

I tell the truth but I speak in riddles
I bend the hands of time
I wake your past and shape your future
I sneak up from behind
You search me in the darkness
But I hide in the light
And catch you when you least expect it
Off hand, off guard

They call me Ciceline
I come in different shapes and sizes
What would you have me be
Blue, red, blood orange or
Dishwashing water green

So open up your hand babe
And let me read between the lines
Let me nestle in your creases
And unfold all your lies
Cause what we tell ourselves
Ain't what we need to hear
I'll give it to you slant dear
And dazzle gradually

They call me Ciceline
I come in different shapes and sizes
What would you have me be
Blue, red, blood orange or
Dishwashing water green

Blue, red, blood orange or
Dishwashing water green
Blue, red, blood orange or
Dishwashing water green

One shot
Is all you got
Better keep your feet steady

One shot
And then you're done
Now tell me baby are you ready?

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