#AmericanWriters
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 went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
Only dumb guys fight. If I wasn’t dumb I wouldn’t be fightin’. I could make six dollars a day On the docks
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—
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams
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…
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
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
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
How still, How strangely still The water is today, It is not good For water
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
I work all day, Said Simple John, Myself a house to buy. I work all day, Said Simple John,
