| Dear Sir, I write this note to you to tell you of me plight
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| And at the time of writing, I am not a pretty sight;
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| My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly gray
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| And I write this note to say why Paddy’s not at work today
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| While working on the fourteenth floor some bricks I had to clear;
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| Now, to throw them down from such a height was not a good idea
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| The foreman wasn’t very pleased, he beeing an awkward sod
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| He said I’d have to cart them down the ladders in me hod
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| Now, clearing all these bricks by hand it was so very slow
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| So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below
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| But in me haste to do the job I was to blind to see
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| That a barrelful of building bricks was heavier than me
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| So when I untied the rope the barrel fell like lead
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| And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead
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| Well, I shot up like a rocket till to my dismay I found
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| That halfway up I met the bloody barrel comming down
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| Well, the barrel broke me shoulder as to the ground it sped
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| And when I reached the top I banged the pully with my head
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| Well, I clung on tight through numbed shock from this almighty blow
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| And the barrel spilled out half the bricks fourteen floors below
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| Now, when these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor
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| I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more;
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| Still clinging tightly to the rope, I sped towards the ground
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| And I landed on the brocken bricks that were all scattered round
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| Well, I lay there groaning on the ground, I thougth I’d passed the worst
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| When the barrel hit the pully-wheel and then the bottom burst
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| Well, a shower of bricks rained down on me, I hadn’t got a hope
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| As I lay there moaning on the ground, I let go of the bloody rope
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| The barrel than being heavier, it started down once more
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| And landed right across me, as I lay upon the floor
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| Well, it broke three ribs and my left arm and I can only say
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| That I hope you’ll understand why Paddy’s not a work today |