+ | Ed Sheeran Lyrics, Song Meanings, Videos, Full Albums & Bios

The A Team
by Ed Sheeran

White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste

Lights gone, days end
Struggling to pay rent
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

Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes

Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone

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
But she don't want to go outside, tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the motherland
Or sells love to another man
Its too cold outside
For angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line

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

They scream

The worst things in life come free to us
And we're under the upper hand
And go mad for a couple grams
And we don't want to go outside, tonight
And in the pipe fly to the motherland
Or sell love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly, angels to fly
To fly, fly
For angels to fly, to fly, to fly
Angels to die

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: ED SHEERAN

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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British tunesmith Ed Sheeran finally drops his debut album, + (pronounced “plus”). He jumps right into his lead single, “The A Team”, a catchy and melancholy narrative about a junkie prostitute on downward spiral. Sheeran soulfully coos her sad story over minimal piano parts, ambient electric six-string effects, and muted acoustic guitar rhythms. He cleverly imports hip-hop beats and handclaps into the following “Drunk” before balancing smoothly sung verses with choruses rapidly phrased to match the rhythm track. Read Full BioBritish tunesmith Ed Sheeran finally drops his debut album, + (pronounced “plus”). He jumps right into his lead single, “The A Team”, a catchy and melancholy narrative about a junkie prostitute on downward spiral. Sheeran soulfully coos her sad story over minimal piano parts, ambient electric six-string effects, and muted acoustic guitar rhythms. He cleverly imports hip-hop beats and handclaps into the following “Drunk” before balancing smoothly sung verses with choruses rapidly phrased to match the rhythm track. In “Make Me Up,” his lyrics take on rhetorically conversational approach, earning the adoration of his muse with pop culture references and witty confessionals; it’s sung like a handwritten letter signed and sealed over piano notes. There’s live beatbox accompaniment in the pitter-patter backdrop of the harmonious “Small Bump” and the Justin Timberlake-inspired “You Need Me, I Don’t Need You” (wich boasts more a cappella rhythm a Bobby McFerrin album).