Super soldier version 2 (on hold)

How did that get there!?

As I open my eyes, I realise that I'm no longer outside on the rooftop, I'm in a white room, on a bed. Where am I? I groan as I remember the events of the past night, but I smile remembering the fact that I'm no longer a prisoner. I need to get out of this house, to find my mum. I rip off the covers and sit on the edge of the bed, as I stretch, I notice that my escape yesterday had taken a toll on my body, everything hurt like hell.

But I just ignored it, and stood up. I quietly opened the door and shut it, before checking the room to see if anyone else was in here. Nope! I walked across the room, and found the front door. It looked really high tech! There were so many buttons! I reached up, to unlock the door, and just as I was about to open the door I heard someone speak, "And where were you going Missy?" Asks the stranger behind me, I curse under my breath and turn around. "Oh, just you know. Out?" I say suspiciously. I then quickly open the door, and run, I have no idea where I'm going, but I just need to get away and fast! After about 10 minutes of continuous running, I decide to stop. I turn around and luckily no-one's following me. Ok, so now I need some money to call my mum. Ooh! I have an idea!

As I walk through the street, I find a souvenir shop, I swiftly take a hat, and plop it on my head. I feel awful about stealing, but its the only way to get home. I find a busy street, and put my hat on the ground. I'm going to sing, to earn some money. Now, which song? I need something easy to sing. Ah hah, the A-team by everyone's favourite ginger Ed Sheeran.

White lips, pale face

Breathing in snowflakes

Burnt lungs, sour taste

Light's gone, day's 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

And sells love to another man

It's too cold outside

For angels to fly

Angels to fly

Ripped gloves, rain coat

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