Alex Goot - The A Team lyrics
[Alex Goot - The A Team lyrics]
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
But 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 to 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
But 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 to fly, to fly
For angels to fly to fly, to fly
For angels to die
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
But 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 to 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
But 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 to fly, to fly
For angels to fly to fly, to fly
For angels to die