| White lips, pale face
|
| Breathing in 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 want to go outside tonight
|
| And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
|
| And sells love to another man
|
| It’s too cold outside
|
| For angels to fly
|
| Angels to fly
|
| Ripped gloves, rain coat
|
| Tried to swim and stay afloat
|
| Dry house, wet clothes
|
| Loose change, bank notes
|
| Weary-eyed, 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
|
| Cause we’re just under the upper hand
|
| And go mad for a couple grams
|
| And she don’t want to go outside tonight
|
| And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
|
| And sells love to another man
|
| It’s too cold outside
|
| For angels to fly
|
| An angel will die
|
| Covered in white
|
| Closed eyes
|
| And hoping for a better life
|
| This time, we’ll fade out tonight
|
| Straight down the line
|
| 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
|
| They scream
|
| The worst things in life come free to us
|
| 'And we’re all under the upper hand
|
| Go mad for a couple grams
|
| And we don’t want to go outside tonight
|
| And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
|
| And sell love to another man
|
| It’s too cold outside
|
| For angels to fly
|
| Angels to fly
|
| To fly, fly
|
| For angels to fly, to fly, to fly |