The Sick Note

C G G

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

Dm C Dm G

For at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight

F C Am

My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly grey

C G C

And I write this note to say why Paddy's not at work today.

Whilst working on the fourteenth 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

He said I had 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 half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down.

Well the barrel broke my shoulder, as to the ground it sped

And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with my head

I clung on tightly, 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, my body racked with pain

When half way down, I met the bloody barrel once again.

The force of this collision, half way up the office block

Caused multiple abrasions and 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, and 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 the bloody rope.

The barrel then 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

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

Copyright Pat Cooksey 1969. Melodien er hugget fra The Garden where the Praties grow.

The Pure Malt Songbook

David Fønsbo

2005-01-23T13:49:01