** I DON'T OWN THE WORDS IN ITALICS THAT IS ED SHEERAN'S SONG 'THE A TEAM'
JUST PUTTING THAT OUT THERE
justplainjaynee**
White lips, pale face Breathing in snowflakes
One more night, she promised herself, taking another drag of the cigerette. One more night and she will end it all.
Burnt lungs, sour taste Light's gone, day's end
Curling up on the old matress in her small two room flat, she turned, trying to find a comfy position on the lumpy matress, One more night, she thought again.
Struggling to pay rent Long nights, strange men No longer able to afford her flat, thrown out onto the streets, where she belongs. Finding a warm few hours by selling herself to strangers, One more night, this time she will do it. That's the silent promise. And they say She's in the Class A Team Stuck in her daydream Been this way since eighteen
Familier strangers walk past her, wondering where the sweet high school girl went, and who this monster there now was. The girl, always high, those strangers thought she was just ignorant and innocent, but she was long gone, from that.
But lately her face seems Slowly sinking, wasting Crumbling like pastries
Life was finally catching up to her, she realised she could no longer live this way, death was approaching fast, but would it be fate or her own hand that finished it? And they scream The worst things in life come free to us
She screams to the Gods up high at night, no one hears her cries, no one cares for her, she is alone and she brought it to herself, she knows that, One more night of this, she promises one more time.
Cause we're just under the upper hand And go mad for a couple grams
They know what they are doing to this girl, they do it anyway. She pays them, what is their problem as long as they get what they want? They are in control, she is no longer herself.
And she don't want to go outside tonight
Another night on the streets. Another night alone. Another night wondering, what if?
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland Or sells love to another man
One more night of a high bliss, One more night of self-loathing. She needs money for food, she needs the comfort of a humans touch, she needs love.
It's too cold outside For angels to fly Angels to fly
She's killing herself, does she realise? Maybe it's for the best she thinks. One more night, this time it will be over. It's too cold outside For angels to fly Or angels to die
She's done it. It's over, that one night finally came. No one will remember the girl with no name.
