A little battered, a little worn
A little stained, a little torn.
Bits of sweat and blood and tears
Stretched from sleep throughout the years.

It isn't much, but it's like me
Filled with care and memories
The white no longer holds it's glow
But it's still warm and soft and so
If you need my sweater,
I'll give it happily.
I know you'll wear it better
And with you I will be.