#Americans #Blacks
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
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
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 you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
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
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
I play it cool I dig all jive. That's the reason I stay alive. My motto
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
I could take the Harlem night and wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a cr… Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways,
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
