Oh pardon the slovenly state of my dress
And give me some time to explain
I'm just out of bed, I'm very near dead
There's something gone wrong with my brain
I awoke with my feet twisted up in a sheet
My head nearly touching the floor
Perspiring like steam, I've had such a dream
'Oh my head, my thick head'

Chorus: Oh, the nightmare! trouble me no more
Oh, the nightmare! mercy! I implore
When will all these horrors cease?
Can I never sleep in peace?
Pity me! a martyr to the nightmare!

At first I was dreaming I stood on the stage
Of a Hall full of devils and imps
They wore no attire and drank liquid fire
And feasted off sulphur and shrimps
They told me to sing some horrible thing
Or else I must die on the spot
But every note stuck fast in my throat
Then I fell out of bed like a shot
'Oh my poor ribs, those poor ribs!'


Once more in my bed, I fell dreaming again
I thought I had lost both my legs
I wore Highland kilts and walked upon stilts
Quite fifty yards long were my 'pegs'
I stepped over houses without any fuss
Crossed rivers without any splash
But telephone wires cut short my desires
And I fell to the ground with a crash
'Oh my poor roof! my poor thatch!'


With brains all on fire, I twisted and turned
At last into slumber I dropped
No sooner asleep, my flesh 'gan to creep
My blood's circulation seemed stopped
For there stood old Binns with the rope in his 'fins'
All ready to pop over my head
He seized me, I tried to push him aside
And I pushed the wife clean out of bed
'On her head, her poor head!'

home spaceA spaceB spaceC spaceD spaceE spaceF spaceG spaceH spaceI spaceJ spaceK spaceL spaceM spaceN spaceO spaceP spaceQ spaceR spaceS spaceT spaceU spaceV spaceW spaceX spaceY spaceZ