• And they say
    She's in the class A Team
    Stuck in her daydream
    Been that 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
    Cos 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

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