#AmericanWriters
I’m all alone in this world, she s… Ain’t got nobody to share my bed, Ain’t got nobody to hold my hand— The truth of the matter’s I ain’t got no man.
Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is… (America never was America to me.…
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
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 went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
When Susanna Jones wears red her face is like an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages. Come with a blast of trumphets, J… When Susanna Jones wears red
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
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
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,
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?