Song | Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song |
Artist | Todd Rundgren |
Album | Todd |
作曲 : Gilbert, Sullivan | |
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 you're lying awake with a dismal headache and | |
Repose is taboo'd by anxiety, | |
I conceive you may use any language you choose to | |
Indulge in, without impropriety; | |
For your brain is on fire, the bed-clothes conspire of | |
Usual 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 mixed | |
Pickles, so terribly sharp is the pricking, | |
And you're hot and you're cross, and you tumble and | |
Toss 'til there's nothing 'twixt you and the | |
Ticking. | |
Then the bed-clothes all creep to the ground in a heap | |
And you pick 'em all up in a tangle; | |
Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to | |
Remain at it's usual angle! | |
Well, you get some repose in the form of a dose, with | |
Hot eye-balls and head ever aching, | |
But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams | |
That you'd very much better be waking; | |
For you dream you are crossing the channel, and | |
Tossing about in a steamer from harwich, | |
Which is something between a large bathing machine and | |
A very small second class carriage, | |
And you're giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) to | |
A party of friends and relations, | |
They're a ravenous horde, and they all come on board | |
At sloane square and south kensington stations. | |
And bound on that journey you find your attorney | |
(who started this morning from devon); | |
He's a bit undersiz'd and you don't feel surpris'd | |
When he tells you he's only eleven. | |
Well you're driving like mad with this singular lad | |
(by the bye the ship's now a four wheeler), | |
And you're playing round games, and he calls you bad | |
Names when you tell him that "ties pay the dealer"; | |
But this you can't stand so you throw up your hand, | |
And you find you're as cold as an icicle; | |
In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with gold | |
Clocks) crossing sal'sbury plain on a bicycle: | |
And he and the crew are on bicycles too, which they've | |
Somehow or other invested in, | |
And he's telling the tars all the particulars of a | |
Company he's interested in; | |
It's a scheme of devices, to get at low prices, all | |
Good from cough mixtures to cables | |
(which tickled the sailors), by treating retailers as | |
Though 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 will | |
Shoot, and they'll blossom and bud like a fruit | |
Tree; | |
From the green grocer tree you get grapes and green | |
Pea, 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 by | |
Rothschild and baring, | |
And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake | |
And with a shudder despairing | |
You're a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and | |
No wonder you snore, for your head's on the floor | |
And you've needles and pins from your soles to your | |
Shins, and your flesh is acreep, for your left leg's | |
Asleep, | |
And you've cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose, | |
And some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue, | |
And a thirst that's intense, | |
And a general sense that you haven't been sleeping in | |
Clover; | |
But the darkness has pass'd, and it's daylight at | |
Last, and the night has been long, ditto, ditto my | |
Song, | |
And thank goodness they're both of them over! |
zuò qǔ : Gilbert, Sullivan | |
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 you' re lying awake with a dismal headache and | |
Repose is taboo' d by anxiety, | |
I conceive you may use any language you choose to | |
Indulge in, without impropriety | |
For your brain is on fire, the bedclothes conspire of | |
Usual slumber to plunder you: | |
First your counterpane goes, and uncovers your toes, | |
And your sheet slips demurely from under you | |
Then the blanketing tickles, you feel like mixed | |
Pickles, so terribly sharp is the pricking, | |
And you' re hot and you' re cross, and you tumble and | |
Toss ' til there' s nothing ' twixt you and the | |
Ticking. | |
Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap | |
And you pick ' em all up in a tangle | |
Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to | |
Remain at it' s usual angle! | |
Well, you get some repose in the form of a dose, with | |
Hot eyeballs and head ever aching, | |
But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams | |
That you' d very much better be waking | |
For you dream you are crossing the channel, and | |
Tossing about in a steamer from harwich, | |
Which is something between a large bathing machine and | |
A very small second class carriage, | |
And you' re giving a treat penny ice and cold meat to | |
A party of friends and relations, | |
They' re a ravenous horde, and they all come on board | |
At sloane square and south kensington stations. | |
And bound on that journey you find your attorney | |
who started this morning from devon | |
He' s a bit undersiz' d and you don' t feel surpris' d | |
When he tells you he' s only eleven. | |
Well you' re driving like mad with this singular lad | |
by the bye the ship' s now a four wheeler, | |
And you' re playing round games, and he calls you bad | |
Names when you tell him that " ties pay the dealer" | |
But this you can' t stand so you throw up your hand, | |
And you find you' re as cold as an icicle | |
In your shirt and your socks the black silk with gold | |
Clocks crossing sal' sbury plain on a bicycle: | |
And he and the crew are on bicycles too, which they' ve | |
Somehow or other invested in, | |
And he' s telling the tars all the particulars of a | |
Company he' s interested in | |
It' s a scheme of devices, to get at low prices, all | |
Good from cough mixtures to cables | |
which tickled the sailors, by treating retailers as | |
Though 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 will | |
Shoot, and they' ll blossom and bud like a fruit | |
Tree | |
From the green grocer tree you get grapes and green | |
Pea, 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 by | |
Rothschild and baring, | |
And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake | |
And with a shudder despairing | |
You' re a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and | |
No wonder you snore, for your head' s on the floor | |
And you' ve needles and pins from your soles to your | |
Shins, and your flesh is acreep, for your left leg' s | |
Asleep, | |
And you' ve cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose, | |
And some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue, | |
And a thirst that' s intense, | |
And a general sense that you haven' t been sleeping in | |
Clover | |
But the darkness has pass' d, and it' s daylight at | |
Last, and the night has been long, ditto, ditto my | |
Song, | |
And thank goodness they' re both of them over! |