The A Team - Live
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
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us
'Cause we're just under the upper hand
Go mad for a couple grams
She don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherlands
Sell love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim, stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary eyes, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
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
'Cause we're just under the upper hand
Go mad for a couple grams
She don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherlands
Or sell love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
Fly, fly
To fly, to fly, to fly
An angel 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
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us
'Cause we're just under the upper hand
Go mad for a couple grams
She don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherlands
Sell love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim, stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary eyes, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
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
'Cause we're just under the upper hand
Go mad for a couple grams
She don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherlands
Or sell love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
Fly, fly
To fly, to fly, to fly
An angel die
Credits
Writer(s): Ed Sheeran
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
Altri album
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