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 aging face the face that once was so beautiful

Is still there but unrecognizable, private hell

The man who 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

Think of Emma wonder what she's doing

Her husband Terry and your grandchildren

Think of Edward who's 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

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

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