Fm
Closer than close - you see yourself - a mirrored immage,
     C#                Fm
of what you wanted to be
   F#
As each day goes by - a little more -  you can't remember
         C#           Fm
what it was you wanted anyway
     Fm
The fingers feel the lines - they prod the space - your ageing face
     C#                   D#          C#                   D#
The face that once was so beautiful - is still there but unrecognizable
F#
Private Hell, Private Hell

The man who you once loved - is blad 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

G#       C#            G#         C#
Think of Emma - wonder what she's doing
    G#      C#          G#          C#
her husband Terry - and your grandchildren
A#       C                A#      C
Think of Edward - who's still at college
     A#       C                  A#         C
you send him letters - which he doesn't acknowledge
       Fm
'Cause he don't care - they don't care
               C#                      D#
'Cause they're all going through their own
Fm
Private Hell, Private Hell

The morning slips away - in a valium haze - and catalogues
a numerous cups of coffe
In the afternoon - the weekly food - is put in bags
you float off down the high street
The shops windows reflect - play a nameless host - to a closet ghost
a picture of your fantasy - a victim of your misery
Private Hell, Private Hell

Fm
Alone at 6 o'clock - you drop a cup - you see it smash
                                                       C#
inside you crack - you can't go on  - but you sweep it up
        D#                 Fm
Safe at last inside your - Private Hell
 C#        D#                Fm
Sanity at last inside your - Private Hell