The Shirt - Norma Jean

Last night I was goin' to the closet and on the rack with my dresses

I found the shirt he’d worn when he held me in his arms for the very last time

The shirt I knew that he’d never wear again

As I took it from the rack all my dreams came racin' back

The faint perfume of sweet love filled the night

I could see his face again he kissed my lips as then

And I almost felt his arms around me tight

A shirt that even the Gods must envy

For it’s arms once encircled the dream that only heaven can bring

Inside this shirt had beaten the most wonderful heart in the whole wide world

And forever each thread shall remind me of him

I turned down a rolled up sleeve and I scaresly could believe

When I looked and saw a strand of my own hair

It was clinging like a vine to the shirt he left behind

As if to let him know that I still care

I walked to the window sill and my eyes began to fill

And I thought I heard the soft wind call his name

And the shirt across my arm grew strangely soft and warm

As if I’d reached and held it to a flame

And there I stood hearing only the beat of my own aching heart

Lost in the dreams that might have been

And the shirt seemed as sorrowful as I and just as empty body and soul