The A Team



White lips, pale faceBreathing in snowflakesBurnt lungs, sour tasteLight's gone, day's endStruggling to pay rentLong nights, strange men
And they sayShe's in the Class A TeamStuck in her daydreamBeen this way since 18But lately her face seemsSlowly sinking, wastingCrumbling like pastries
And they screamThe worst things in life come free to usCos we're just under the upperhandAnd go mad for a couple of gramsAnd she don't want to go outside tonightAnd in a pipe she flies to the MotherlandOr sells love to another manIt's too cold outsideFor angels to fly
An angel will dieCovered in whiteClosed eyeAnd hoping for a better lifeThis time, we'll fade out tonightStraight down the lineStraight down the line
And they sayShe's in the Class A TeamStuck in her daydreamBeen this way since 18But lately her face seemsSlowly sinking, wastingCrumbling like pastries
And they screamThe worst things in life come free to usCos we're just under the upperhandAnd go mad for a couple of gramsAnd she don't want to go outside tonightAnd in a pipe she flies to the MotherlandOr sells love to another manIt's too cold outsideFor angels to flyAngels to fly
Angels to flyTo fly, flyAngels to fly, to fly, to flyAngels to die