Cooking In The Street

Cooking In The Street
92

We passed through fire and earthquake,
And close to famine’s hungry jaws
We’re seen such rights in Frisco,
As have made the whole world pause
We,ve seen such sights in Frisco,
Burned to ushes at our feet
But for undiluted troubles
me cooking in the street!

Chorus:
With an armful of bricks
And a fistful of fire
Over stew-pans and kettles
We all putt and perspire
Both the rich and the poor
The bedraggled and neat
Are on the same level
And cook in the street

The city’s now a dry one,
NO whisky, beer or wine;
May wet our thirsty whistles,
And we all must stand in line-
To get our daily rations,
If we really wish to eat
But this is not circumstance
To cooking in the street!

We’ve seen waste lots and play grounds,
Also all the city parks
Filled with homeless refugees
In tents-who bore the marks
Of wealth and soft refinement
But I’m yet the first to meet
Who complained of their misfortunes
Or of cooking in the street

We’ve seen the o city’s ruins
Stand like specters ‘neath the sun,
We’ve seen the fire-fland finish
Work that mother earth begun
We’ve won that no philosopher
Could Frisco’s children beat;
By the cheerfulness with which
They did-their cooking in the street!”
Ursula Burford Harry