Gave proof through the night that Sutro was still there

O say can you see,
through the fog’s ghostly light,
Sutro proudly we hailed
antennas silently gleaming,
whose red lights and white bars,
through the perilous fight,
o’er Dolores we watched,
webcams gallantly streaming?
And the sunset’s red glare,
the fog bursting in air,
gave proof through the night
Sutro Tower was still there.
O say does that fog-spangled transmitter yet wave
o’er burritos for thee
and the home of the grey?