


I drew this one during "Calling All the Children Home."
Home to the table, home to the feast
Where the last are first and the greatest are the least
Where the rich will envy what the poor have got
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
When we're calling all the children home
Gathered 'round the table and the big, black pot
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
From the sacks in Soweto to the ice of Nome
From Baghdad City to the streets of RomeWhen we're calling all the children home
This one was from "Streets of Sarajevo." It talked about people who were killed in a breadline and then a musician came and played in the crater left by the bomb every day for 22 days, one for each of the victims. My mom told me later it was a cello not a piano but I still like it and so did Mr. McCutcheon.