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(mary chapin carpenter) |
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This shirt is old and faded |
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All the color's washed away |
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I've had it now for more damn years |
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Than i can count anyway |
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I wear it beneath my jacket |
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With the collar turned up high |
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So old i should replace it |
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But i'm not about to try |
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This shirt's got silver buttons |
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And a place upon the sleeve |
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Where i used to set my heart up |
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Right there anyone could see |
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This shirt is the one i wore to every boring high school dance |
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Where the boys ignored the girls |
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And we all pretended to like the band |
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This shirt was a pillow for my head |
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On a train through italy |
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This shirt was a blanket beneath the love |
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We made in argeles |
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This shirt was lost for three whole days |
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In a town near buffalo |
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'till i found the locker key |
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In a downtown trailways bus depot |
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This shirt was the one i lent you |
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And when you gave it back |
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There was a rip inside the sleeve |
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Where you rolled your cigarettes |
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It was the place i put my heart |
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Now look at where you put a tear |
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I forgave your thoughtlessness |
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But not the boy who put it there |
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This shirt was the place your cat |
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Decided to give birth to five |
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And we stayed up all night watching |
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And we wept when the last one died |
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This shirt is just an old faded piece of cotton |
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Shining like the memories |
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Inside those silver buttons |
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This shirt is a grand old relic |
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With a grand old history |
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I wear it now for sunday chores |
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Cleaning house and raking leaves |
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I wear it beneath my jacket |
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With the collar turned up high |
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So old i should replace it |
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But i'm not about to try |
