The Sick Note
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Dear Sir I write this note to inform you of my plight 
And at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight 
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly gray 
I write this note to tell why Paddy's not at work today 

While working on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear 
And to throw them down from off the top seemed quite a good idea 
But the gaffer wasn't very pleased, he was an awful sod 
He said I had to cart them down the ladder in me hod. 

Well clearing all those bricks by hand, it seemed so very slow 
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below 
But in my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see 
That a barrel full of building bricks is heavier than me. 

So when I had untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead 
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead 
I took off like a rocket and to my dismay I found 
That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down. 

Well the barrel broke my shoulder as on to the ground it sped 
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with me head 
I held on tight, though numb with shock from this almighty blow 
And the barrel spilled out half its load fourteen floors below 

Now when those building bricks fell from the barrel to the floor 
I then outweighed the barrel so I started down once more 
I held on tightly to the rope as I flew to the ground 
And I landed on those building bricks that were scattered all 
around. 

Now as I lay there on the deck I thought I'd passed the worst 
But when the barrel reached the top, that's when the bottom burst 
A shower of bricks came down on me, I knew I had no hope 
In all of this confusion, I let go the bloody rope. 

The barrel being heavier, it started down once more 
And landed right on top of me as I lay on the floor 
It broke three ribs and my left arm, and I can only say 
That I hope you'll understand why Paddy's not at work today. 



by Pat Cooksey