The A Team (Shy FX's Ackee and Saltfish Remix)

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