My Mother’s Handbag chords by Chris Difford

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Verse 1
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I used to love the smell
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of my mother's handbag
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I wondered what was there inside
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I  once tried to sneak my hand in
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To see what I could find
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A packet of mints and a picture of me
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A small leather purse and
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a front door key
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I used to love the taste
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of my mother's dinners,
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her Sunday roast was great
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Silence fell upon our family,
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as the spuds fell on our china plates
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A piece of pie and a bottle of cream
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Do ing the douches,
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our plates so clean
I used to play beneath the table
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While all her friends would pray
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I was destined for the life of Riley
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Not for the tears of Johnny Ray
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I was always on my own
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Secretly playing
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my make -out games
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Pushing my cars along the street
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Playing with the firework flames
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Paul was young and just like me
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We sailed our boats way out to sea
I used to play beneath the table
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While all her friends would pray
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I was destined for the life of Riley
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Not for the tears of Johnny Ray
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What a  good boy I'd become
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Tied to my mother's ap ron strings
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A simple life became highly strung
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On a sofa with popped out springs
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Here today, the lark ascends
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Me and my life of imaginary friends
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