The A Team Boyce Avenue White lips, pale face, Breathing in sn[Am]owfla[Em]kes, Burnt lungs, s[Am]our t[G]aste. [G]Light's gone, day's end, Struggling to [Am]pay r[Em]ent, Long nights, s[Am]trange m[G]en. [Am7]And they say she's in the Class [C]A Team, Stuck in her day[G]dream, Been this way since [D]18, but lately her [Am7]face seems Slowly sinking, wa[C]sting, Crumbling like p[G]astries, And they scream, [D]The worst things in life come free to us, [Em]Cos we're just under the [C]upperhand, (guitaretab.com)