The Bricklayer’s Song Ray Stevens

Okay, here's a song about an Irishman who had a little bad luck
And I've been told this is a true story

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
Me body is all black and blue, me face a deathly grey
And I write this note to tell you why I'm not at work today

While working on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear
But to toss them down from such a height was not a good idea
The foreman wasn't very pleased, he is an awkward sod
He said I'd have to cart them down the ladders in me hod

Now shifting all those bricks by hand, it was so very slow
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured a rope below
But in me haste to do the job, I was too blind to see
That a barrel full of building bricks is heavier than me

And 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 'til to my dismay, I found
That halfway up I met the bloody barrel coming down

Now the barrel broke me shoulder as to the ground, it sped
And when I reached the top, I banged the pulley with me head
I clung on tightly, numb with shock from this almighty blow
And the barrel spilled out half the bricks fourteen floors below