It's hard being that woman the one whose husband disappeared It's made me quite famous I just wish it was for something else He went out five years ago for a pint of milk & never came back So here I am with a daughter who blames me for all that's wrong in the world a son trying his best to pick up the pieces & a gaggle of new neighbours who are over friendly & incredibly nosy Then I find a left luggage ticket in the pocket of one of his old coats & suddenly I'm thinking What's if he's not dead? What if he's still out there somewhere? You think you have the perfect life the perfect kids & then it's all turned inside out What if I don't like what I find? & is it a chance I'm willing to take?