Hanging-Out Clothes

I’m hanging around In my hanging-out clothes, The ones you won’t see When I’m striking a pose. I have quite a few – They’re outdated and loose And compliments, likely, They’d never produce. They might have a stain Or be faded or ripped Or wrinkled (for ironing’s Surely been skipped). And yet, they are comfy And cozy to me. While wearing them, I’m As relaxed as can be. If you ring my doorbell, Don’t think that it’s strange For there’ll be a delay While I hasten to change!