The A Team
Ed Sheeran / Ed Sheeran: + (2011)
| A | A | E/G# | | F#m | D | A |
| / / / / | / / / / | / / / / | | / / | / / | | | / / / / | / / | / / | | / / / / | / / / / | |
| A | E/G# | F#m | D | A |
| White lips, pale face, breathing in | snow | flakes, Burnt lungs, | sour | taste. |
| A | E/G# | F#m | D | A |
| Light's gone, day's end, Struggeling to | pay | rent, Long nights, | strange | men. |
| Bm7 | D | A |
| They say she's in the Class | A Team, stuck in her | daydream, |
| E/G# |
| Been this way since eight | een, but lately |
| Bm7 | D | A |
| Her | face seems Slowly sinking, | wasting, crumbling like | pastries, |
| E/G# |
| And they scream, the | worst things in life come free to us, |
| F#m | D | A |
| ‘Cause we're | just under the | upperhand, and | go mad for a couple of grams, |
| F#m | D | A |
| And she don't want to | go out | side - tonight, |
| F#m | D |
| And in a | pipe she flies to the | Motherland, |
| A | F#m | D |
| Sells love to another man, | It's too cold | outside |
| A | E | F#m | D | A | F#m | D | A |
| For | angels to | fly, | | angels to | fly - y - | y! | |
| A | E/G# | F#m | D | A |
| Ripped gloves, raincoat, tried to swim and | stay a | float, Dry house, | wet | clothes. |
| E/G# | F#m | D | A |
| Loose change, bank notes, weary-eyed, | dry | throat, call girl, | no | phone. |
| Bm7 | D | A |
| They say she's in the Class | A Team, stuck in her | daydream, |
| E/G# |
| Been this way since eight | een, but lately |
| Bm7 | D | A |
| Her | face seems Slowly sinking, | wasting, crumbling like | pastries, |
| E/G# |
| And they scream, the | worst things in life come free to us, |
| F#m | D | A |
| ‘Cause we're | just under the | upperhand, and | go mad for a couple of grams, |
| F#m | D | A |
| And she don't want to | go out | side - tonight, |
| F#m | D |
| And in a | pipe she flies to the | Motherland, |
| A | F#m | D |
| Sells love to another man, | It's too cold | outside |
| A | E | F#m | D | F#m |
| for | angels to | fly, An angel will | die - covered in | white, closed eye, |
| A | Bm7 | D | F#m |
| And | hoping for a better life, | This time, we'll fade out to | night, straight down the | line. |
| F#m | D | A |
| |: | / / / / | | / / / / | | / / / / | / / / / :| |
| Bm7 | D | A |
| And | They say she's in the Class | A Team, stuck in her | daydream, |
| E/G# |
| Been this way since eight | een, but lately |
| Bm7 | D | A |
| Her | face seems Slowly sinking, | wasting, crumbling like | pastries, |
| E/G# |
| And they scream, the | worst things in life come free to us, |
| F#m | D | A |
| ‘Cause we're | just under the | upperhand, and | go mad for a couple of grams, |
| F#m | D | A |
| And she don't want to | go out | side - tonight, |
| F#m | D |
| And in a | pipe she flies to the | Motherland, |
| A | F#m | D |
| Sells love to another man, | It's too cold | outside |
| A | E | F#m | D | A | F#m | D | A |
| For | angels to | fly, | | angels to | fly - y - | y! | |
| F#m | D | A |
| Angels to | fly, to | fly, to | fly, angels to fly. |
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