Luyện nghe bài hát Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song

Love unrequited, me of me rest
Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul
Love, nightmare like, lies on me chest
And weaves itself my midnight slumbers

When you're lying awake with a headache
And repose is taboo'd by
I conceive you may use any
You choose to indulge in, impropriety

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

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

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

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

For you dream you are crossing the
And tossing in a steamer from Harwich
Which is between a large bathing machine
And a small second class carriage

And you're giving a treat ice and cold meat
To a party of and relations
a ravenous horde and they all come on board
At Sloane Square and South 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 tells you only eleven

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

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

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

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

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

From the green grocer you get grapes
And green pea, cauliflower, pine and cranberries
While the pastry plant cherry brandy will grant
Apple and three corners and banburys

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

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

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

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