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 18, but lately her face seems, slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries, and they scream the worst things in life come free to us
* Cos she's just under the upperhand, and go mad for a couple of grams
And she don’t want to 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 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 18, but lately her face seems, slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries, and they scream the worst things in life come free to us
( * , ** )
An angel will die, covered in white Closed eye and hoping for a better life
This time, we’ll fade out tonight, straight down the line
Straight down the line
( * , ** )
And we're all under the upperhand, and go mad for a couple of grams
And we don’t want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we'll fly to the Motherland, or sell love to another man
It’s too cold outside for angels to fly,
for angels to flyyyyy
Flyyyy, flyyyyyy, angels to fly, fly, flyyy
Or angels to die