Private Hell

Closer than close
You see yourself
A mirrored image
Of what you wanted to be

As each day goes by
A little more
You can't remember
What it was you wanted, anyway

The fingers feel the lines
They prod the space
Your ageing face
The face that once was so beautiful
Is still there, but unrecognisable
Private Hell
Private Hell

The man that you once loved
Is bald and fat
And seldom in
Working late as usual

Your interest has waned
You feel the strain
The bed springs snap
On the occasions he lies upon you
Close your eyes and think of nothing but
Private Hell
Private Hell

Think of Emma
Wonder what she's doing
Her husband, Terry
And your grandchildren
Think of Edward
Still at college
You send him letters
Which he doesn't acknowledge
'Cause he don't care
They don't care
'Cause they're all going through their own
Private Hell
Private Hell

The morning slips away
In a Valium haze
And catalogues
And numerous cups of coffee

In the afternoon
The weekly food
Is put in bags
As you float off down the High Street

The shop windows reflect
Play a nameless host
To a closet ghost
A picture of your fantasy
A victim of your misery and
Private Hell
Private Hell

Think of Emma
Wonder what she's doing
Her husband, Terry
And your grandchildren
Think of Edward
Still at college
You send him letters
Which he doesn't acknowledge
'Cause he don't care
They don't care
'Cause they're all going through their own
Private Hell
Private Hell

Alone at 6 o'clock
You drop a cup
You see it smash
Inside you crack
You can't go on
But you sweep it up

Safe at last inside your
Private Hell
Sanity at last inside your
Private Hell
Sanity at last inside your
Private Hell

Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell
Private Hell