The Sick Note

Pat Cooksey

Dear Sir, I write this note to you
To tell you of me plight
And at the time of writing
I am not a pretty sight
Me body is all black and blue
Me face a deathly gray
And I write this note to say
Why Paddy’s not at work today

While working on the fourteenth floor
Some bricks I had to clear
Now to throw them down from such a height
It was not a good idea
The foreman wasn’t very pleased
He bein’ an awkward sod
He said I’d have to cart them
Down the ladders in me hod

Now clearing all these bricks by hand
It was so very slow
So I hoisted up a barrel
And secured the rope below
But in me haste to do the job
I was too blind to see
That a barrel full of building bricks
Was heavier than me

So when I untied the rope
The barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope
I started up instead
Well, I shot up like a rocket
Til to my dismay I found
That halfway up I met
The bloody barrel coming down

Well, the barrel broke me shoulder
As to the ground it sped
And when I reached the top
I banged the pulley with me head
While I clung on tight all numb with shock
From this almighty blow
And the barrel spilled out half the bricks
Fourteen floors below

Now, when these bricks had fallen
From the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel
And so started down once more
Still clinging tightly to the rope
I sped towards the ground
And I landed on the broken bricks
That were all scattered round

Well, I laid there groaning on the ground
I thought I’d passed the worst
When the barrel hit the pulley wheel
And then the bottom burst
Well, a shower of bricks rained down on me
I hadn’t got a hope
As I lay there moaning on the ground
I let go the bloody rope

The barrel then being heavier
It started down once more
And landed right across me
As I lay upon the floor
Well 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