#AmericanWriters
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
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…
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—
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
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 —
Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
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—
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…