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