- Aconitum napellus
When you're lying awake with a dreadful headache
- Author unknown
And you've got a most fearful anxiety
And you toss and you turn and your cheeks seem to burn
And your cold makes you shun all society
And your heart seems to burst and also got such a thirst
That it seems to excuse insobriety
And you've such a great fear that death is drawing near
That you send for your kin and admonish'em
That although it seems funny, they won't get your money
And the terms of your will may astonish 'em
But away with dull sorrow, there's always tomorrow
And if you have treated it right
Your cold will have vanished, your symptoms be banished
And the name of the cure's Aconite.