And they say,
He's in the Class A Team, 
Stuck in his daydream. 
Been this way since 18. 
But lately his 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. 
And he don't want to go outside tonight.
And in a pipe he flies to the Motherland, 
Or sells love to another man. 
It's too cold outside, 
For angels to fly, 
Angels to fly.