Come you, cartoonists, Hang on a strap with me here At seven o?clock in the morning On a Halsted street car. Take your pencils And draw these faces. Try with your pencils for these crooked faces, That pig-sticker in one corner?his mouth? That overall factory girl?her loose cheeks. Find for your pencils A way to mark your memory Of tired empty faces. After their night?s sleep, In the moist dawn And cool daybreak, Faces Tired of wishes, Empty of dreams.