Ed Sheeran – The A Team (Acoustic) Lyrics

Ed Sheeran – The A Team (Acoustic) Lyrics
The A Team (Acoustic)
Ed Sheeran
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    The A Team (Acoustic) Album Art
    "The A Team (Acoustic)." - Ed Sheeran

    Album: The A Team - EP
    Track No: 05
    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
    She's 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 her
    'Cause she's just under the upper hand
    And goes mad for a couple grams
    And she don't wanna go outside tonight
    'Cause in a pipe, she'll fly to the motherland
    And sell love to another man, it's too cold outside
    Angels to fly, for angels to fly
    Ripped gloves, raincoat, try to swim and stay afloat
    Dry house, wet clothes
    Loose change, banknotes, weary eyed, and dry throat
    Cool girl with no phone
    And they say she's in the class a team
    She's 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 her
    'Cause she's just under the upper hand
    And goes mad for a couple grams
    And she don't wanna go outside tonight
    'Cause in a pipe, she'll fly to the motherland
    And sell love to another man, it's too cold outside
    Angels to fly
    Now, an angel will die covered in white
    Closed eyes and hoping for a better life
    This time now, we'll fade out tonight
    Straight down the line
    Straight down the line, whoa
    And they say she's in the class a team
    She's 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
    When we're all under the upper hand
    I'm going mad for a couple grams
    And we don't wanna go outside tonight
    'Cause in a pipe, we'll fly to the motherland
    And sell love to another man, it's too cold outside
    Angels to fly, for angels to fly
    To fly, fly, for angels to fly
    To fly, to fly, for angel to die

    Writer(s): Ed Sheeran.

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