#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music abou… Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest so… Rising out of the ground like a sw…
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
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—
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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.
