Fabienne bergmans - 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 Cla** 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 we're just under the upperhand Go mad for a couple 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 Angels to fly Ripped gloves, raincoat Tried to swim, 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 Cla** 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 we're just under the upperhand 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 Or sells love to another man It's too cold outside For angels to fly 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 And they say She's in the Cla** A Team Stuck in her daydream Been this way since 18 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 upperhand And go mad for a couple grams And we don't want to 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 Angels to fly To fly, fly Angels to fly To fly, to fly For angels to die