Pat Cooksey :: The Sick Note

Dear Sir, I write this note to you, to tell you of my plight

For, 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 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, the bloody awkward sod

And he said I’d have to cart them down the ladders in my 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 my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see

That a barrel full of building bricks was heavier than me. 

And 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 pulley with my head.

I hung on tightly, numb with shock from this almighty blow

And the barrel spilled out half the bricks, 14 floors below. 

Now, when those bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor

I then outweighed the barrel & so started down once more

Still clinging tightly to the rope, my body racked with pain

When, halfway down, I met the bloody barrel once again!

The force of this collusion, halfway up the office block

Caused multiple abrasions & a nasty state of shock

Still clinging tightly to the rope, I fell towards the ground

And I landed on the broken bricks the barrel scattered round

I lay there groaning on the ground, I thought I'd passed the worst,

But the barrel hit the pulley-wheel & then the bottom burst.

A shower of bricks rained down on me, I hadn't got a hope

As I lay there bleeding on the ground, I let go of the bloody rope. 

The barrel was free to fall & down it came once more,

And landed right across me, as I lay upon the floor

It broke three ribs & my left arm & I can only say

That I hope you understand why Paddy's not at work today! 

(Words- Pat Cooksey 

Music: Traditional (“In the Garden Where the Praties Grow”)