They drank and made some speeches, but no one knew what about
And later on they all went home to think the matter out
While the foreman, fierce and heated, tearing handfuls from his hair
Essayed before the architect to lay the whole affair
He, poor man, couldn't understand, and fearful was the din
When the Managing Director of the Company came in
Again more complications and it wasn't very long
Before it dawned upon them something awful must be wrong.

The three went off together, and then in a body sped
To the various directors of 'The Tower Limited'
Who promptly held a meeting which for incoherent row
Has never had its equal from that period till now
The Chairman bawled and shouted till he got extremely hoarse
But as he spoke in Gaelic, no one understood of course
And when the meeting ended, as the clocks were striking four
One thing was clear enough to all - 'twas all up with the Tower.


That night the Babel residents sat up till very late
And most of them decided it was best to emigrate
And all that week they left the town in families and bands
In haste to quit the spot and settle down in other lands
A few who still spoke Yiddish stopped, and oft with one accord
They mournfully turned out to read a notice on a board
That stood against the Tower, exposed to sun and rain and gale
"In Bankruptcy - large quantity of building stock for sale."

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