#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
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
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
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
I sat there singing her Songs in the dark. She said; 'I do not understand The words’.
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
Clean the spittoons, boy. Detroit, Chicago, Atlantic City, Palm Beach.
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
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
