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