They say, she's in the Class A Team...
Stuck in her daydream
She's 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,
'Cos we're just under the upperhand,
And go mad for a couple of grams.
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...