The A Team sing and play along

White lips, pale face, breathing in stay snowflakes.

Burnt lungs, sour taste.

Light's gone, day's end.

Struggling to pay rent.

Long nights, strange men.

And they say she's in the Class A team.

Stuck in her daydream.

Been this way since eighteen, but lately her face seems slowly sinking,

wasting, crumbling like pastries.

And they scream:

the worst things in life come free to us,

'cause we're just under the upper hand and go mad for a couple grams.

And she don't wanna go outside tonight.

And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland.

Or sells love to another man.

It's too cold outside for angels to fly.

For angels to fly.

Ripped gloves, raincoat, tried to swim,

stay afloat.

Dry house, wet clothes.

Loose change, bank notes.

Wearyeyed, to dry throat.

Call girl, no phone.

And they say she's in the Class A team.

Stuck in her daydream.

Been this way since eighteen, but lately her face seems slowly sinking,

wasting, crumbling like pastries.

And they scream:

the worst things in life come free to us,

and we're all under the upper hand and go mad for a couple grams.

And we don't wanna go outside tonight.

And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland.

Or sell love to another man.

It's too cold outside for angels to fly.

For angels to fly.

fly. That angel will die covered in white.

Closed eyes, an' hopin' for a better life this time.

We'll fade out tonight straight down the line.

Ooh. Ooh.

Ooh. And fly.

Angels to fly,

to fly, fly.

For angels to fly, to fly,

to fly.

Angels to die.