There’s a rip in the elbow of the left sleeve And one button doesn’t match You sewed that one on yourself and at the time it made me laugh It’s frayed on the collar, it’s so old and faded out blue
And I’ll never wash it ‘Cause it smells so exactly like you when you left it I’m sure you didn’t think twice about it But the irony is that I can’t live without it
I wear your shirt like it’s your arms around me I put it on and you just surround me It’s so soft on my skin Like the touch of your hands
So good it hurts, I should burn it I know Tear it up I’m this close But for the moment I just can’t let go of your shirt
It keeps me warm when I sleep And those nights I don’t It keeps me company I’ve got it on in the mornings having coffee And after work when I’m watching TV
It’s my comfort, it’s my torture and, yes, I realize It’s just same worn out old fabric But it’s my consolation prize And I’d be a wreck in a New York minute If I think too long of how you held me in it
I wear your shirt like it’s your arms around me I put it on and you just surround me It’s so soft on my skin Like the touch of your hands
So good it hurts I should burn it, I know tear it up I’m this close But for the moment I just can’t let go of your shirt
Your shirt, I love your shirt
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