「歌曲」Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song-Todd Rundgren

Lord Chancellor's Nightmare Song
When you're lying awake with a dismal headache
And repose is tabooed 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 bedclothes all creep to the floor in a heap
And you lie like a log in the middle of it
And you think of the fate of a man who is late
For the meeting of the Lord Chancellor's committee
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 a-creep, 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 driven you out of your wits
And you're something like a man who is very much bit
By a very large and very hungry spider
And you're not very glad that you're not very mad
For you're feeling a little bit queer
And you wish that the bed would be turned into a bed
Of a very much more commodious shape
For the nights are so long, and the days are so short
That you're forced to get up in the middle of the night
And you're not very glad that you're not very mad
For you're feeling a little bit queer
And you wish that the bed would be turned into a bed
Of a very much more commodious shape
For the nights are so long, and the days are so short
That you're forced to get up in the middle of the night