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 upperhand, 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.