This shirt is old and faded, all the colors washed away
I've had it now for more damn years than I could count anyway
I wear it beneath my jacket, with the color turned up high
So old I should replace it, but I'm not about to try
This shirt's got silver buttons, and a place upon the sleeve
Where I used to set my heart up, right there where anyone
could see
This shirt's the one I wore to every boring high school dance
Where the boys ignored the girls and we all pretended
to like the band
This shirt was a pillow for my head, on a train through Italy
This shirt was a blanket beneath the love we made
in Angele
This shirt was lost for three home days, in a town near Buffalo
Till I found the long key, in a downtown, trailways bus depot
This shirt is the one I lend you
This shirt is the one I lend you
This shirt is the one I gave it back
It had a rip inside the sleeve, where you rolled your cigarettes
It was the place I'd put my heart, now look at where you put a tear
I forgave your thoughtlessness, but not the boy who put it there
This shirt is the place your cat decided, to give birth to five
And we stayed up all night, watching, and we watched T-Mobile
Wept when the last one died
This shirt is just an old
Painted piece of cotton
Shining like the memories
Inside those silver buttons
This shirt is a grand old relic
With a grand old history
I wear it now for Sunday chores
Cleaning house and raking leaves
I wear it beneath my jacket
With a collar turned up high
So old I should replace it
But I'm not about to try
I wear it now for Sunday chores