The sick note

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 14th floor, some bricks I had to clear.
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.
I shot up like a rocket till to my dismay I found,
that halfway up I met the bloody barrel coming down.

The barrel broke me shoulder, as to the ground it sped
and when I reached the top I banged the pully with my head.
I clung on tight though numbed shock from the almighty blow
and the barrel spilled out half the bricks 14 floors below.

When these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor,
I then outweighed the barrel and started down once more.
Still clinging tightly to the rope, I sped towards the ground
and landed on the broken bricks that were all scattered round.

I lay there groaning on the ground I thougth I passed the worst,
when the barrel hit the pully-wheel and then the bottom burst.
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 being heavier, it started down once more,
and landed right across me as I lay upon the floor.
It broke three ribs and my left arm and I can only say:
“I hope you'll understand why Paddy's not a work today!”