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White lips, pale faceBreathing in snowflakesBurnt lungs, sour tasteLight's gone, day's endStruggling to pay rentLong nights, strange menAnd they sayShe's in the Class A TeamStuck in her daydreamBeen this way since eighteenBut lately her face seemsSlowly sinking, wastingCrumbling like pastriesAnd they screamThe worst things in life come free to us'Cause we're just under the upper handAnd go mad for a couple gramsAnd she don't want to go outside tonightAnd in a pipe she flies to the MotherlandOr sells love to another manIt's too cold outsideFor angels to flyAngels to flyRipped gloves, raincoatTried to swim and stay afloatDry house, wet clothesLoose change, bank notesWeary-eyed, dry throatCall girl, no phoneAnd they sayShe's in the Class A TeamStuck in her daydreamBeen this way since eighteenBut lately her face seemsSlowly sinking, wastingCrumbling like pastriesAnd they screamThe worst things in life come free to us'Cause we're just under the upper handAnd go mad for a couple gramsAnd she don't want to go outside tonightAnd in a pipe she flies to the MotherlandOr sells love to another manIt's too cold outsideFor angels to flyAn angel will dieCovered in whiteClosed eyeAnd hoping for a better lifeThis time, we'll fade out tonightStraight down the lineAnd they sayShe's in the Class A TeamStuck in her daydreamBeen this way since eighteenBut lately her face seemsSlowly sinking, wastingCrumbling like pastriesThey screamThe worst things in life come free to usAnd we're all under the upper handGo mad for a couple gramsAnd we don't want to go outside tonightAnd in a pipe we fly to the MotherlandOr sell love to another manIt's too cold outsideFor angels to flyAngels to flyTo fly, flyFor angels to fly, to fly, to flyFor angels to die
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