His House Her Home 
      I think to myself when we kiss 
      Your husband is watching 
      From his portrait his eyes are looking down 
      On the slipper and stocking 
      Back against the bookcase 
      Down upon the floor 
      Empty the decanter 
      Slur again for more. 

      His house, Her home, our future in a lover's world 
      Her son, Her heart, her love for me, tomorrow's world 

      I laugh at myself when your son 
      Is watching cartoons 
      In the morning he's looking up at me 
      When we're in the bathroom 
      Sees me kissing mother 
      Doesn't blink an eye 
      Asks a lot of questions 
      Answers hard to find. 

      I talk to myself when I'm drunk 
      And she is still sober 
      Words are so few and far between 
      My arms reach to hold her 
      Hungry for the love 
      I rescued from the grave 
      The past is just a portrait 
      The future's ours to frame

      (c) 1982 Illegal Songs (BMI)

  • Chords
  • FROM THE ALBUM: Sweets From a Stranger.
  • COMPILATIONS: Excess Moderation, Master Series.
  • From the Excess Moderation sleevenotes. Glenn: A real harpsichord played by John Savannah (formerly known as Don Snow) propels this song sung in a register rarely used by Chris. I'm sure for years after he thought that, by adding my encouragement, I'd played a cruel trick on him. Chris: Adultery in all its glory, the milkman on his round and the lady with the extra gold top on Sundays. And me in tight jeans trying to be Peter Noone with my voice.