A-Team - mike.

And they say she’s in the Class A-team

Stuck in her day-dream

Been this way since eighteen, but lately

Her face seems to slowly sink, wasting

Crumbling like pastries

And they scream, «worse things in life come free to us»

Cause we’re just under the upperhand

And go mad for a couple grams

She don’t wanna go outside tonight

And in the pipe, she flies to the motherland

And sells love to another man

It’s too cold outside, for angels to fly

Dark room, starin' down a bottle

Blank face with the figure of a model

These cold nights, too often to be coincidence

Used to be an artist now the pipe’s the only instrument

A-Student, her friends loved her to death

Her assessment of her men just wasn’t the best

They met freshman year, fell in love on a whim

Left after first semester, all she wanted was him

Didn’t love gettin' high, but did it because he wanted to

Little scared, but how much damage could marijuana do?

Weed turned to pills, pills turned to pain

Personality changed, nothin' was the same

Now he didn’t wanna kiss her, didn’t wanna love her

Everything was fuckin' different, he left to find another

So hurt, and embarrassed

All she got was dial tones every time she called her parents

Move along, move along: what she told herself

Had to find the means so she sold herself

Used her body for a buck, but hardly was a slut

She would cry herself to sleep after every single fuck

Lost track of her reality

Thoughts of her addiction made her think this how it had to be

Now she stands, lifted on that balcony

Lost soul and ready to be a casualty

Found a star, to make one last wish

Brought the pipe up to her mouth, for one last hit

It was the ultimate high, took a breath and closed her eyes

And jumped off the ledge, she was ready to fly