Todd Rundgren - Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song Lyrics
Love unrequited, robs me of me rest,Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers,Love, nightmare like, lies heavy of me chest,And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers.When youre lying awake with a dismal headache andRepose is tabood by anxiety,I conceive you may use any language you choose toIndulge in, without impropriety;For your brain is on fire, the bed-clothes conspire ofUsual slumber to plunder you:First your counter-pane goes, and uncovers your toes,And your sheet slips demurely from under you;Then the blanketing tickles, you feel like mixedPickles, so terribly sharp is the pricking,And youre hot and youre cross, and you tumble andToss til theres nothing twixt you and theTicking.Then the bed-clothes all creep to the ground in a heapAnd you pick em all up in a tangle;Next your pillow resigns and politely declines toRemain at its usual angle!Well, you get some repose in the form of a dose, withHot eye-balls and head ever aching,But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreamsThat youd very much better be waking;For you dream you are crossing the channel, andTossing about in a steamer from harwich,Which is something between a large bathing machine andA very small second class carriage,And youre giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) toA party of friends and relations,Theyre a ravenous horde, and they all come on boardAt sloane square and south kensington stations.And bound on that journey you find your attorney(who started this morning from devon);Hes a bit undersizd and you dont feel surprisdWhen he tells you hes only eleven.Well youre driving like mad with this singular lad(by the bye the ships now a four wheeler),And youre playing round games, and he calls you badNames when you tell him that ties pay the dealer;But this you cant stand so you throw up your hand,And you find youre as cold as an icicle;In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with goldClocks) crossing salsbury plain on a bicycle:And he and the crew are on bicycles too, which theyveSomehow or other invested in,And hes telling the tars all the particulars of aCompany hes interested in;Its a scheme of devices, to get at low prices, allGood from cough mixtures to cables(which tickled the sailors), by treating retailers asThough they were all vegetables;You get a good spadesman to plant a small tradesman(first take off his boots with a boot tree),And his legs will take root, and his fingers willShoot, and theyll blossom and bud like a fruitTree;From the green grocer tree you get grapes and greenPea, cauliflower, pine apple and cranberries,While the pastry cook plant cherry brandy will grant,Apple puffs, and three corners, and banburys;The shares are a penny and ever so many are taken byRothschild and baring,And just as a few are allotted to you, you awakeAnd with a shudder despairingYoure a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, andNo wonder you snore, for your heads on the floorAnd youve needles and pins from your soles to yourShins, and your flesh is acreep, for your left legsAsleep,And youve cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose,And some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue,And a thirst thats intense,And a general sense that you havent been sleeping inClover;But the darkness has passd, and its daylight atLast, and the night has been long, ditto, ditto mySong,And thank goodness theyre both of them over!
