The A Team Songtext
von Luca Hänni

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 18
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 of 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


Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, banknotes
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 18
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 of grams
And we 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
For angels to fly, to fly, to fly
An angel′s to die