Private Hell

Closer than close - you see yourself - A mirror 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 unrecognizable - 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 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 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