Besedila: Dubliners. Paddy's Sick Note.

Dear sir I write this note to you to tell me 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 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 being an awkward sod.
He said I'd have to carry 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 too blind to see;
That a barrel full 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.
While I shot up like a rocket, to my dismay I found,
That halfway up, I met the bloody barrel coming down.

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

And when I reached the top, I banged the pulley with me head.
Well I clung on tight though numb and 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 broken bricks that were all scattered 'round.

While I lay their groaning on the ground I thought I passed the worst,
When the barrel hit the pulley 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 then being heavier it started down once more,
And landed right across me as I lay across 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 at work today.