#AmericanWriters
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
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,
Good morning, daddy! Ain’t you heard The boogie—woogie rumble Of a dream deferred? Listen closely:
She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She,
He glides so swiftly Back into the grass— Gives me the courtesy of road To let me pass, That I am half ashamed
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—
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
2 and 2 are 4. 4 and 4 are 8. But what would happen If the last 4 was late? And how would it be
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