White lips, pale face 

Breathing in snowflakes

Burnt lungs, sour taste



Lights gone, days 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 

'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

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 eighteen 

But lately her face seems

Slowly sinking, wasting

Crumbling like pastries



And they scream 

'Cause we're just under the upper hand 

And go mad for a couple grams

But she don't want to go outside, tonight

And in a pipe she flies to the motherland

Or sells love to another man

Its 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 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 

And we're under the upper hand 

And go mad for a couple grams

And we don't want to go outside, tonight

And in the pipe 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

For angels to fly, to fly, to fly

Angels to die