i barely put on the shirt i wore
when i helped paint your room
the yellow is as bright as ever
as if the memories were brand new
i cant help but wonder
if you knew what you were going to do
and as the fabric holds my skin
it almost feels like you

and i will wear the shirt
every fucking night
so i can keep warm

i put the shirt in the wash
with enough bleech to turn it ghost
ill kill your lies somehow
ill find a new shirt ill call home
the paint was now been cleaned
the yellow now dead white
you are so damn naive but not
as much as me the one who lost the fight

and i will wear the shirt
every fucking night
so i can keep warm

ill bleech this shirt every night
hoping the paint will come off your walls
ill wear this shirt every night
dreaming of you, hoping youll fall