2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be

I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,

Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:

Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—

When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left

From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur

I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,

I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind

To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening

It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—