I don't own Shugo Chara or the song, The A team by Ed Sheeran. (Recommend listening to the song, it's good)
Warning, Character death! Thanks for reading!
White clips, pale face,
breathing in snowflakes,
burnt lungs, the sour taste,
lights gone, days end,
struggling to pay rent,
long nights, the strange men.
She's changed. She used to be our light, smile in the dark times, hope that allowed us to continue on in the hard times. But then the accident happened. Her family died. She no longer acted empty. She was empty. She refused to let anyone help her; she believed she was helping herself. It's winter, snow fell everywhere, but she was out, selling herself just for a place to stay.
"Amu, please, we can help" I tried to plead, like always.
"Go away, Ikuto, I don't need you or anyone else" but we need you.
And they say she 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 can all tell that she's no longer with us. She's in her own little world, aging day by day. Those that knew her understood that it's only been happening since her 18th, two years she's been crumbling, fading in life.
And they scream,
the worst things in life come free to us,
cause we're just under the upper hand,
go mad for a couple grams,
and she doesn't want to go outside, tonight,
and in a pipe she flies to the motherland,
sells love to another man.
We're all afraid to know what's happened to her, she can't win; none of us can. She won't listen, she does what she wants, and it's all about the drugs now. She needs them; she won't leave her room anymore. She says she has too many memories; she doesn't want to relive them. So she does what she always does, she gets high. She forgets us all: she forgets everything.
I watch her from her window, as I've always done. But I see a man leaving, I'm sure he's already given her his money, or whatever he's offered her. I don't know if she even cares anymore.
It's too cold outside,
for angels to fly,
for angels to fly.
Is it freedom? Is that all she wants? To be free from everything? Why can't she come to me? I understand! I'd do anything for her, why doesn't she get that?
Ripped gloves, raincoat,
try to swim, stay afloat,
dry house, wet clothes,
loose change, bank notes,
weary eyed, dry throat,
call girl, no phone.
She's been kicked out of her apartment again; I saw her sleeping on a bench in the park. She uses what she has to survive, her clothes and body. I don't see why she can't use me. I'd help her without abusing her.
It was raining; I followed her as a man she didn't know gave her shelter. I watched as she repaid him. The tears fell from my eyes, pain that I didn't want to face. I loved her. We all loved her. Didn't she get that? Why couldn't I be enough for her?
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.
And they scream,
the worst things in life come free to us,
cause we're just under the upper hand,
go mad for a couple grams,
but she don't wanna go outside, tonight,
and in a pipe she flies to the mother land,
sells love to another man,
It's too cold outside,
For angels to fly,
An angel will die
Covered in white
She's getting worst. I can see it. She doesn't care anymore. Before she had a glimmer of hope, but now there's nothing. I'm scared, she's fading so quickly. She's killing herself. She has no life anymore, that shine in her eyes are gone. She's given up.
If she continues like this, the girl we all came to love will be gone, more so than she already is. We need her. And she needs us. I love her more than I thought I could possibly love another. I need her.
Closed eyes, and hoping for a better life
this time, we'll fade out tonight
straight down the line
She ignores the world. She pretends what she does isn't wrong. She wants a better life, and we would help her, but she needs to want the help. Bust she is so stubborn. A part I loved yet hated in her. If she wants a better life we could help her. So many people love her, doesn't she know? I know she loves us, but she's hidden within herself, refusing to be let free.
I didn't think she could get any worst, but I was wrong.
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 pastry.
But they scream,
worst things in like come free to us,
and we're all under the upper hand,
go mad for a couple grams,
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.
Rain poured, mingling with the tears as my clothes stuck to my body. I could see her other friends, the ones she denied were there, stood beside me. We all cried. We cried for our angel. We cried for our friend, our happiness. I cried for my love. I cried for the love that set herself free. I cried for the love that decided to fly away from us.
The casket lowered into the ground and I felt my shattered heart bury along with her.
To fly, to fly,
For Angels to die.