When you’re lying awake with a dreadful headache

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When you’re lying awake with a dreadful headache
And you’ve got a most fearful anxiety,
And you tos and turn, and your cheeks seem to burn
And your cold makes you shun all society,
And your heart seems to burst and you’ve got such a thirst
That it seems to excuse insobriety,
And you’ve such a great fear that death’s drawing near
That you send for your kin and admonish’em

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