#AmericanWriters
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long da… That I had to climb, that I had t… In order that the race might live… Look at my face —dark as the night…
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…
By what sends the white kids I ain’t sent: I know I can’t be President.
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
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
I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
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 —
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
The rent man knocked. He said, Howdy—do? I said, What Can I do for you? He said, You know
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