The oil in the hot wok
The cook gets ready to fry
Stirring it with his ladle
He sings his songs
Across his windows
He sees the cats and dogs
Squatting near the drains
Eagerly waiting for him
The line is drawn
The howling and meowing getting hot
The oil in the hot wok
Bubbling up eager to fry
The cook looks at them
The animals staring at him
‘No my friends
There is no hopping yet’
He stirs his hot wok
Dreaming of his dishes he will cook
When the time comes he knows
Now he keeps stirring his bubbling oil
The cook gets ready to fry
Stirring it with his ladle
He sings his songs
Across his windows
He sees the cats and dogs
Squatting near the drains
Eagerly waiting for him
The line is drawn
The howling and meowing getting hot
The oil in the hot wok
Bubbling up eager to fry
The cook looks at them
The animals staring at him
‘No my friends
There is no hopping yet’
He stirs his hot wok
Dreaming of his dishes he will cook
When the time comes he knows
Now he keeps stirring his bubbling oil
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