Ed Sheeran – The A Team

|A     |A   -  -  E/G#   |F#m  -  -  D   |A     |

|A                 |A     -         -      E/G#      |F#m  -     -      D   |A    |
   White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes,     burnt lungs, sour taste
|A                   |A    -     -       E/G#    |F#m  -     -       D      |A   |
   Light's gone, days end, struggling to pay rent,     long  nights, strange men

   |Bm                          |D                   |A                            |E/G#   |
And they say, she’s in the Class A Team, stuck in her daydream, been this way since 18
               |Bm                         |D      |
But lately, her face seems, slowly sinking, wasting
              |A                             |E/G#                                |
Crumbling like pastries, and they scream, the worst things in life come free to us

            |F#m            D         |A                              |
'Cause we're just under the upper hand,  and go mad for a couple grams
   |F#m             D    |A           |
And she don't wanna go outside tonight
        |F#m                   D         |A                             |
And in a pipe she flies to the motherland,  or sells love to another man
|F#m        D      |A         E        |
   It's too cold outside, for angels to

|F#m   D    |A          |F#m   D    |A     |
 fly,          angels to fly

|A                   |A     -        -     E/G#       |
   Ripped gloves, raincoat, tried to swim, stay afloat
|F#m  -     -      D   |A      -  -  E/G#   |
      Dry   house, wet  clothes
|A                   |A      -     -     E/G#      |F#m  -     -     D   |A    |
   Loose change, bank notes, weary-eyed, dry throat,     call  girl, no   phone

   |Bm                          |D                   |A                            |E/G#   |
And they say, she’s in the Class A Team, stuck in her daydream, been this way since 18
               |Bm                         |D      |
But lately, her face seems, slowly sinking, wasting
              |A                             |E/G#                                |
Crumbling like pastries, and they scream, the worst things in life come free to us

            |F#m            D         |A                              |
'Cause we're just under the upper hand,  and go mad for a couple grams
   |F#m             D    |A           |
And she don't wanna go outside tonight
        |F#m                   D         |A                          |
And in a pipe she flies to the motherland,  sells love to another man
|F#m        D      |A         E        |
   It's too cold outside, for angels to

|Bm                |D              |F#m                   |A                       |
 fly, an angel will die, covered in white, closed eyes and hopin' for a better life
|Bm                       |D                              |
 This time, we'll fade out tonight, straight down the line

|Bm    D    |A     |Bm    D    |A     |

   |Bm                          |D                   |A                            |E/G#   |
And they say, she’s in the Class A Team, stuck in her daydream, been this way since 18
               |Bm                         |D      |
But lately, her face seems, slowly sinking, wasting
              |A                             |E/G#                                |
Crumbling like pastries, and they scream, the worst things in life come free to us

         |F#m           D         |A                              |
And we're all under the upper hand,  and go mad for a couple grams
   |F#m            D    |A           |
And we don't wanna go outside tonight
          |F#m              D         |A                            |
And in the pipe, fly to the motherland,  or sell love to another man
|F#m        D      |A         E        |
   It's too cold outside, for angels to

|F#m   D    |A          |F#m   D    |A     |
 fly,          angels to fly
|F#m   D    |A              |F#m     D      |A    E        |A   |
 Fly,    fly,  for angels to fly, to fly, to fly, angels to die