fiche de rp Alan

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 18 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 all under the upperhand. Go mad for a couple of grams and we don't wanna go outside tonight and in a pipe we 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. Angels to fly, to fly, to fly. Angels to die. And they say she's in the Class A Team stuck in her daydream been this way since 18 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 all under the upperhand. Go mad for a couple of grams and we don't wanna go outside tonight and in a pipe we 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. Angels to fly, to fly, to fly. Angels to die. And they say she's in the Class A Team stuck in her daydream been this way since 18 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 all under the upperhand. Go mad for a couple of grams and we don't wanna go outside tonight and in a pipe we 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. Angels to fly, to fly, to fly. Angels to die.