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

I’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.

When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red

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

We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark

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—

Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.