Red T-Shirt Lyrics

My red T-shirt is not that red anymore
It wasn't chlorine but the sunlight
I'm not eighteen and shutting the door
Quietly I try to crawl and hide

This blossom isn't right anymore
At least doesn't seem to be from my window
The garden that I made and adored
I'm admiring over my right elbow

My hand supports my thoughts
And the chin points forward
But is anatomic, not blaming
And I wrote on the clouded glass
My imagination in words
A beam of light shows the feeling