Love, Unrequited, Robs Me of My Rest

Good evening
 I just want to say to you
 Before bed
 Remember
 Brush your teeth
 Have a li'l tinkle
 And sing this song
 Love unrequited, robs me of me rest
 Love, hopeless love, me ardent soul encumbers
 Love, nightmare like, lies heavy on me chest
 And weaves itself into me midnight slumbers
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 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
 Till there's nothing 'twixt you and the ticking
 But 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 its 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
 Bound on that journey, you find your attorney
 Who started this morning from Devon
 He's a bit undersized and you don't feel surprised
 When he tells you he's only eleven
 Well you're driving like mad with this singular lad
 By the by, 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 hands
 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 goods 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 greengrocer tree you get grapes
 And green pea, cauliflower, pineapple and cranberries
 While the pastry cook plant, cherry brandy will grant
 Apple puffs and three corners and banburys
 Ooh, I love 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, and 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 passed, 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