Little Lady
by Ed Sheeran

Little Lady
This is just the worst way to spend your birthday,
it's thirty degrees Thursday.
You work late.
You was with a perv making dirty fake love in his Mercedes.

Lady, the word rape sums up events
that take place every night.
You want to get up
but you know your legs will ache if you try.
And you remember that your punter went crazy last night.
You drag yourself to the mirror to check your face,
then you cry.

Forget the visit to the clinic you were booked in for
You'll make a trip to the Whittington
where they'll look at your jaw.
They'll be inquisitive
and ask about your business for sure.
They'll know you're fibbing if you tell them
you got hit by a door.

But young woman
the pimp sees you as nothing but a dumb hooker
Medical advice could be fatal
'cause the cunt wouldn't ever let a doctor
near someone who's getting dough for him.
'Cause next you got poxy authorities
sticking their noses in.

We're all under the upper hand.
And go mad for a couple grams.
And she don't wanna go outside

'Cause in a pipe she'll fly to the motherland
and sell love to another man.
It's too cold outside.

For angels to fly.
For angels to fly.

Little lady,
your mind you've made up.
Your injuries you can't hide with makeup.
You need some medical advice
you make up a little lie to say
just in case the doc opens his eyes and don't decide
to play dumb.

With any luck
you'll see the same guy
who stitched your top lip.
Last year when your pimp just lost it.

He wouldn't recognize you
if you stared him in the face anyways.
'Cause all the heroin is making you age
But you're a heroine for taking the strain
Of being a prostitute and punching bag

The funds you have left
Go where you're from, using money gram.
Mother had to get you out of the motherland
That's all she struggled to have a single
daughter with the upper hand.

Little does she know you're never coming back
She put you in her brother's hands
Only for him to formulate another plan.

He's the fucking cause of your appalling state
the summer fancy, that you came to London
to get pimped by your Uncle.

She's just under the upper hand.
Goes mad for a couple grams.
She don't wanna go outside

In a pipe, she'll fly to the mother land
And sell love to another man.
It's too cold
For angels to fly.

Now an angel will die,
covered in white.
With closed eyes, hoping for a
better life.

This time.
I will fade out tonight
Straight down the line.

Little lady,
you're trembling with fear.
Your skinny frame kind of resembles a deer.

You're sitting facing a detective,
oh dear.
The meddling nurse couldn't just leave it.
She's only gone and made it much worse,
calling police and
She'll never know the gravity of the damage
she's caused.

You're causing scandal,
going mad in the ward now.
The cop is trying to calm you
Telling you he won't let no one harm you.
The same question he keeps trying to ask you,
"Who you working for?"

He's talking to you like you're worth more
than a dirty whore.

You're having a conversation you
could be murdered for.
You're learning more about exactly
why you have to help bring him or her to call.

He's kicking knowledge
you ain't ever heard before.

Just before he leaves,
he reassures you that he knows that its hard.
He underlines a mobile number
you can phone on his car.

Begs you to use it.
It's useless if you're gonna be stupid.
Cause an answer hasn't come from your bruised lips.
You're on your own.

You've got to go and give your pimp what you owe.
You reach the front door
and it dawns that you've been followed home.

Before you turn around, you feel
a cold blade on your throat.
And a voice says, "Where you been bitch?
I want to know."

No prizes for guessing who it is.
Resistance would be foolishness.
You open the front door,
he boots you in.

There's something new in him,
he's silent now, that fills you with terror.
Get your alibi straight - you could be killed
for an error.

He towers over you,
the six-inch blade catches the sunlight.
At this point, your life flashes before your eyes.
Your handbag drops.
And the contents are all over the floor.

Despite the mess,
there's only one thing that's caught his eye.
And in the moment of rage,
he brutally murders his niece.

And dumps her body in the boot
of his Merc in the street.

Little lady left this Earth in the worst way,
All because she got a card
on her 30th birthday.

We're all under the upper hand.
And go mad for a couple grams.

We don't wanna go outside.

'Cause in a pipe, she'll fly
to the motherland and
sell love to another man.
It's too cold
For angels to fly.
For angels to fly.

To fly, to fly, to fly.
Angels to die.
Lyrics submitted by Alice.