#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
When a man starts out with nothing… When a man starts out with his han… Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world… He starts first with himself
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
