Happy St. Patty's

This is an old folk song/poem. The first time I heard this I couldn't stop laughing.

Why Patty's Not At Work Today

Dear sir, I write this note to you to tell you of me 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 Patty's not at work today.

While working on the 14th floor some bricks I had to clear.
Now, to throw them down from such a height, 'twas not a good idea.
The foreman wasn’t very pleased, him being an awkard sod.
He said I'd have to cart them down the ladder in me hod.

Now, to carry all the 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 filled with building blocks 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, and to my dismay I found
That halfway up I met the bloody barrel coming down.

Well, the barrel broke my shoulder as toward the ground it sped.
And at the top I hit the bloody pulley with me head.
I clung on tight, though numbed with shock, from this almighty blow,
And the barrel splled out half the bricks some 14 floors below.

I then outweighed the barrel, and started down once more.
I clung on tightly to the rope as I sped toward the floor.
And clinging tightly to the rope I went toward the ground,
And landed on the broken bricks a scattered all around.

I lay there moaning on the ground. I thought I'd passed the worst,
when the barrel hit the pulley wheel and then the bottom burst.
A shower of bricks fell down on me. 'Twas then I gave up hope.
And lying there upon the ground, I let go the bloody rope.
The barrel then was heavier, and started down once more,
And landed right across me as I lay there on the floor.
It broke three ribs and my left arm, and I am here to say
That I hope you'll understand why Patty's not at work today.