Sometimes an inanimate object takes on more importance than its face value would suggest. Even an old, threadbare T shirt might have bitter-sweet indispensible memories for its owner...
singer
songwriter
musician
uk
acoustic guitar
cubase
reason
sheffield
bass guitar
doncaster
al stravinsky
voxengo
brian delaney
Story behind the song
Sometimes an inanimate object takes on more importance than its face value would suggest. Even an old, threadbare T shirt might have bitter-sweet, indispensible memories for its owner.
Over several 'Chameleon' drum loops I added bass, violins and cellos, Wurlitzer piano, synthy choirs and oboe. The inimitable Gilly Slinn (http://www.soundclick.com/bands/pageartist.cfm?bandID=546749) emailed me some fine guitar parts that I hope (though doubt) I have done justice to in the mix.
Lyrics
Verse 1
I take it from the machine -
The best that can be said is it's clean;
The colour is faded, the logo is crazy.
I hold it up to the light,
I can see right through it;
Can she see through me?
Chorus
This old shirt has a tale to tell;
Though not Hamlet or Macbeth
It has ghosts and broken promises.
Verse 2
I pull it on again
It's like having you next to my skin again:
Here you rested your head, I kissed your hair;
And the tears you shed -
There are traces of you there
Tangled with each and every thread...
Chorus
This old shirt has a tale to tell;
Though not Hamlet or Macbeth
It has ghosts and broken promises.
This old shirt has had its day,
But I could no more throw it away
Than forget that night we met,
Or proclaim our secret.
Middle 8
I remember waiting, shaking,
In that leafy, shady place,
And your white dress blowing,
Flowing behind you,
Floating like an angel -
The bitter-sweet time we said farewell.
Verse 3
I'm years late but early again -
When will you arrive? And what do you drive?
I see you, you smile as you see my clothes;
You step from the car and your white dress blows,
Flowing behind you -
Still like an angel...
Chorus
This old shirt has a tale to tell;
Though not Hamlet or Macbeth
It has ghosts and broken promises.
This old shirt has had its day,
But I could no more throw it away
Than forget we ever met,
Or proclaim our secret...