Nhạc sĩ: Ed Sheeran
Lời đăng bởi: 86_15635588878_1671185229650
White lips, pale face, virulent snowflakes pull on sad taste
Life's gone, days end, struggling to parallelize, strange man
On this earth, she's in the class eighteen, stuck in her daydreams
Made this way since eighteen, brave lady, hard-faced
Slowly singing, resting, crumbling like purses
And they scream, do all things in life, come free to us
Cause we're just under the upper hand
Cure my foot, cure both
Her grams, she don't wanna go outside tonight
When in a purse, she flies to the other land
Sails off to another man
It's too cold outside for angels to fly
Oh, oh, oh, angels to fly
To fly
To fly, to fly, to fly, to fly, angels to die
