Some of our esteemed readers may be fans of the work of Arthur Seymour Sullivan and William Schwenk Gilbert (Gilbert and Sullivan).
fbb's modest contribution to First Kernow (Cornwall) is developing a similar nightmarish quality. For those unfamiliar with the song, here it is from TouTube, followed by the fat bus bloke version!
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 its 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
helping with timetable layout;
The challenge is wearing, the burden you're bearing,
For a small insignificant payout
Each time point does really needs checking;
The name allocated can wrongly be stated
And thus usability wrecking.
Tolskithy? The answer is pithy;
The hamlet is obliterated.
Or is it called Barncoose? What do we darned use?
Each stop must clearly be stated!
Effectively, it no longer exists.
Illogan Highway, look at it my way;
It isn't placed where once it was labelled.
Th'Academy at Pool is oft called a school;
The passengers' brain is disabled.
Trevelyan is, strange to tell, one
Name that's quite wrong and misleading.
The road's at Park Bottom; the facts if you've got 'em,
Corrected, to First Bus need feeding.
'Cos that name has faded from history.
So looking for Pool's Church is just a fool's search
Unless you unravel the mystery.
Then Carn Brea's old castle is causing much hassle.
The station was closed and demolished.
So stops that are using that name are confusing;
A title that should be abolished.
And this is the truth, there's Tesco Redruth;
No choice? You might well be sorry, son.
Tesco Pool I have heard, Camborne's a third!
And nary a mention of Morrison!
about on a bus to Portreath.
Your body is sweating, 'cos all you are getting
Is nightmares just filled up with grief.
The problems are fearful, your dream time is tearful;
You wonder "Oh why am I caring?"
And just as you scream you awake from the dream,
Convulsed with an utter despairing.
(Musically increase speed to breathless!)
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
(Musically rallentando - it's not painful!)
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!