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Description
more spam e-mail lyrics set to fun music -- lyrics by G. de Horne Vaizey (found the author via Google)
karaoke version on YouTube™
karaoke version on YouTube™
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Lyrics
lyrics from a portion of "About Peggy Saville" By G. de Horne Vaizey -- serendipitously via spam e-mail
E would look round the room and see the sunshine peeping in through the
chinks of the blinds, and when she closed her eyes for a moment--just a
single fleeting moment--lo! the gas was lit, and someone was nodding in
a chair by her side. And it was by no means always the same room. She
was tired, and wanted badly to rest, yet she was always rushing about
here, there, and everywhere, striving vainly to dress herself in clothes
which fell off as soon as they were fastened, hurrying to catch a train
to reach a certain destination; but in each instance the end was the
same--she was falling, falling, falling--always falling--from the crag
of an Alpine precipice, from the pinnacle of a tower, from the top of a
flight of stairs. The slip and the terror pursued her wherever she went;
she would shriek aloud, and feel soft hands pressed on her cheeks, soft
voices murmuring in her ear. One vision stood out plainly from those
nightmare dreams--the vision of a face which suddenly appeared in the
midst of the big grey cloud which enveloped her on every side--a
beautiful face which was strangely like, and yet unlike, something she
had seen long, long ago in a world which she had well-nigh forgotten. It
was pale and thin, and the golden hair fell in a short curly crop on the
blue garment which was swathed over the shoulders. It was like one of
the heads of celestial choir-boys which she had seen on Christmas cards
and in books of engravings, yet something about the eyes and mouth
seemed familiar. She stared at it curiously, and then suddenly a
strange, w
E would look round the room and see the sunshine peeping in through the
chinks of the blinds, and when she closed her eyes for a moment--just a
single fleeting moment--lo! the gas was lit, and someone was nodding in
a chair by her side. And it was by no means always the same room. She
was tired, and wanted badly to rest, yet she was always rushing about
here, there, and everywhere, striving vainly to dress herself in clothes
which fell off as soon as they were fastened, hurrying to catch a train
to reach a certain destination; but in each instance the end was the
same--she was falling, falling, falling--always falling--from the crag
of an Alpine precipice, from the pinnacle of a tower, from the top of a
flight of stairs. The slip and the terror pursued her wherever she went;
she would shriek aloud, and feel soft hands pressed on her cheeks, soft
voices murmuring in her ear. One vision stood out plainly from those
nightmare dreams--the vision of a face which suddenly appeared in the
midst of the big grey cloud which enveloped her on every side--a
beautiful face which was strangely like, and yet unlike, something she
had seen long, long ago in a world which she had well-nigh forgotten. It
was pale and thin, and the golden hair fell in a short curly crop on the
blue garment which was swathed over the shoulders. It was like one of
the heads of celestial choir-boys which she had seen on Christmas cards
and in books of engravings, yet something about the eyes and mouth
seemed familiar. She stared at it curiously, and then suddenly a
strange, w
