The A Team Songtext
von Kurt Hugo Schneider

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 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 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 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
The worst things in life come free to us


′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
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
The worst things in life come free to us
And we're all under the upper hand
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
For angels to fly, to fly, to fly
For angels to die