White lips, pale face,

breathin' in snowflakes,

burnt lungs, sour taste...

Light's 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 the worst

things in life come free to us,

'cause we're just under the upper hand,

and goin' mad for a couple grams.

She don't wanna 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, try

to swim and stay afloat,

dry house, wet clothes...

Loose change, bank notes,

weary eyed, and 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 the worst

things in life come free to us,

'cause we're just under the upper hand.

And goin' mad for a couple grams,

she don't wanna 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 eyes, 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.

And they scream the worst

things in life come free to us,

and we're all under the upper hand.

We go mad for a couple grams,

we don't wanna 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...

Fly, fly...

For angels to fly, to fly, to fly,

for angels to die...