Luyện nghe bài hát Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song

Love unrequited, me of me rest
Love, hopeless love, my ardent encumbers
Love, like, lies heavy on me chest
And itself into my midnight slumbers

When you're lying awake a dismal headache
And repose is taboo'd by
I conceive you may use any
You choose to indulge in, without

For your brain is on fire, the bed-clothes
Of usual to plunder you
First your pane goes and uncovers your toes
And your sheet slips from under you

Then the blanketing tickles, you like mixed
Pickles, so terribly is the pricking
And you're hot and you're and you tumble and
Toss 'til there's nothing you and the ticking

Then the bed clothes all to the ground in a heap
And you pick 'em all up in a
Next pillow resigns and politely declines
To at its usual angle

Well, you get some repose in the form of a
With hot eye balls and head aching
But your slumbering with such horrible dreams
That you'd very much be waking

For you you are crossing the Channel
And tossing about in a from Harwich
Which is something between a large bathing
And a small second class carriage

And you're giving a treat penny ice and meat
To a party of friends and
They're a ravenous horde and they all on board
At Sloane Square and Kensington Stations

And on that journey you find your attorney
Who started morning from Devon
He's a bit undersiz'd and you feel surprised
When he you he's only eleven

you're driving like mad with this singular lad
By the bye the now a four wheeler
And you're round games, and he calls you bad names
When you tell him that, ties pay the

But this you can't so you throw up your hand
And you find you're as cold as an
In your and your socks the black silk with gold clocks
Crossing Sal'sbury on a bicycle

And he and the are on bicycles too
Which they've or other invested in
And telling the tars all the particulars
Of a company interested in

It's a scheme of devices, to get at low
All from cough mixtures to cables
Which tickled the sailors, by retailers as
Though they all vegetables

You get a good man to plant a small tradesman
First take off his with a boot tree
And his legs take root, and his fingers will shoot
And they'll blossom and bud like a fruit

the green grocer tree you get grapes
And green pea, cauliflower, pine and cranberries
While the pastry cook plant cherry will grant
Apple puffs and three and banburys

The are a penny and ever so many
Are taken by Rothschild and
And just as a few are to you
You and with a shudder despairing

You're a regular wreck, with a in your neck
And no wonder you snore, for your head's on the
And you've and pins from your soles to your shins
And flesh is acreep, for your left leg's asleep

And cramp in your toes and a fly on your nose
And some fluff in your lung and a tongue
And a thirst intense
And a general sense that you haven't sleeping in clover

But the darkness has pass'd, and it's at last
And the has been long, ditto, ditto my song
And thank goodness they're of them over