"

White lips,Pale face,Breathing in snowflakes,Burnt lungs,Sour taste. Lights gone, days end. Long nights, strange men. 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 upper hand
And 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, for angels to fly….

Angels will Die

"

"My love is higher than the sky, deeper than the ocean, warmer than the sun shining down on me, quiet as a prayer."