#AmericanWriters
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
I catch the pattern Of your silence Before you speak I do not need To hear a word.
The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.
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
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks
In an envelope marked: PERSONAL God addressed me a letter. In an envelope marked: PERSONAL
Have you dug the spill Of Sugar Hill? Cast your gims On this sepia thrill: Brown sugar lassie,
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,