The Sick Note - Sean Cannon

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;

My body is all black and blue

My 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 was not a good idea

The foreman wasn't very pleased

He beeing 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 to blind to see

That a barrelful 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

Till to my dismay I found

That halfway up

I met the bloody barrel comming down

Well the barrel broke me shoulder

As to the ground it sped

And when I reached the top

I banged the pully with my head

Well I clung on tight through numbed

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 brocken bricks

That were all scattered round

Well I lay there groaning on the ground

I thougth I'd passed the worst

When the barrel hit the pully-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 of the bloody rope

The barrel than 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 a work today