Just found this topic-
and it'* not a new thing, in fact the myth is quite old.
If you go to any Irish music festivals you're bound to hear it at least twice:
Dear Sir I write this note to you, to tell ye of me plight
for at the time writing it, I am not a pretty sight
Me body is al black and blue, me face a deathly gray,
and I hope ye'll understand why I am not at work today.
While working on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear,
but tossing them down from such a height was not a good idea,
the foreman was not very pleased, he is a *** old sot,
and he said I'd have to take them down the ladders in me hod.
Well, moving 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.
[---several verses omitted due to stupidity of me. The barrel hits him going down and then
hits the ground, spilling 1/2 of the bricks, as he goes up and hits the pulley with his head.
Then the barrel goes up, hits him again, then he hits the ground, on top of the spilled
As I lay there bleeding on the ground, I thought I'd passed the worst
but the barrel hit the pulley wheel and then the bottom burst
oh, a shower of bricks rained down on me, I didn't have a hope
and as I was losing conciousness, I let go the bloody rope.
Well, the barrel now being heavier, it started down once more
it landed right across me as I lay there on the floor
It broke three ribs and my left arm, and I can only say,
as I hope ye'll understand why Paddy'* not at work today.