#AmericanWriters
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.
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
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
You say I O.K.ed LONG DISTANCE? O.K.ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then!
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
I woke up this mornin’ ’Bout half-past three. All the womens in town Was gathered round me. Sweet gals was a-moanin’,
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise— So when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,