Luyện nghe bài hát Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song

Love unrequited, me of me rest
Love, hopeless love, my soul encumbers
Love, nightmare like, lies heavy on me
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 to indulge in, without impropriety

For brain is on fire, the bed-clothes conspire
Of usual slumber to you
your counter pane goes and uncovers your toes
And your sheet slips demurely under you

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

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

Well, you get some repose in the of a dose
hot eye balls and head ever aching
But your slumbering teems such horrible dreams
you'd very much better be waking

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

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

And bound on that journey you your attorney
Who started morning from Devon
He's a bit undersiz'd and you don't surprised
When he you he's only eleven

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

But you can't stand so you throw up your hand
And you you're as cold as an icicle
In your shirt and your socks the black silk with gold
Sal'sbury Plain on a bicycle

And he and the crew are on too
Which they've somehow or other in
And telling the tars all the particulars
Of a company he's in

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

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

From the green grocer tree you get
And green pea, cauliflower, pine and cranberries
While the pastry cook plant brandy will grant
Apple puffs and three corners and

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

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

And you've in your toes and a fly on your nose
And some fluff in lung and a feverish tongue
And a that's intense
And a general that you haven't been sleeping in clover

But the has pass'd, and it's daylight at last
And the night has been long, ditto, ditto my
And goodness they're both of them over