>Paddy staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking
>pals.
>
>He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Brigid, and tiptoed as
>quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom,
>but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the
>banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A
>whiskey in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
>
>Managing not to yell, Paddy sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in
>the mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding.
>
>He managed to find a full box of band-aids and using them as best as he
>could on everywhere he saw blood. He then hid the now almost empty band-aid
>box and shuffled and tumbled his way to bed.
>
>In the morning, Paddy woke up with searing pain in both his head and his
>butt and Brigid staring at him from across the room.
>
>She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you Paddy?"
>
>Paddy said, "Why you say such a mean thing?"
>
>"Well," Brigid said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the
>broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood
>trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly
>it's all those band-aids on the hall mirror.
The Sick Note
Listen to the song here: http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/sounds/sick-note.mp3
Dear Sir I write this note to inform you of my plight
And at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly gray
I write this note to tell why Paddy's not at work today
While working on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear
And to throw them down from off the top seemed quite a good idea
But the gaffer wasn't very pleased, he was an awful sod
He said I had to cart them down the ladder in me hod.
Well clearing all those bricks by hand, it seemed 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 is heavier than me.
So when I had untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead
I took off like a rocket and to my dismay I found
That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down.
Well the barrel broke my shoulder as on to the ground it sped
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with me head
I held on tight, though numb with shock from this almighty blow
And the barrel spilled out half its load fourteen floors below
Now when those building bricks fell from the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel so I started down once more
I held on tightly to the rope as I flew to the ground
And I landed on those building bricks that were scattered all
around.
Now as I lay there on the deck I thought I'd passed the worst
But when the barrel reached the top, that's when the bottom burst
A shower of bricks came down on me, I knew I had no hope
In all of this confusion, I let go the bloody rope.
The barrel being heavier, it started down once more
And landed right on top of me as I lay on 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.