The dripping is what did him in.
All hours of the night it went on,
The constant slow drip of water.
It went on for thousands of eons!
He grabbed his mallet and saw.
He grabbed the wrench and tape.
Garbed in his midnight pajamas,
And wielding a towel like a cape.
He met the dripping sink in battle!
Wielding his wrench like a sword
And his mallet like a war hammer.
He looked like a great war lord.
One swift stroke was all it took.
And cut the leaky faucet in two!
Out spout water by the gallons.
And soaked through and through.
The sleepy man was not finished.
He wrapped his tape around twice.
He fought the flooding of water.
And soon had it wrapped thrice.
Again, again, and again he fought.
Tell morning's first light shone.
With a sigh of relief he was done.
Though soaked to the very bone.
Then he heard a fearful sound!
It started as a rumble, then a roar!
As the tape began to slowly break,
The man screamed to his very core.
Water blew the house to the sky.
And the weather man gives a sigh.
Looks like another rainy day
In the old part of Shanghais