#AmericanWriters
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
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…
Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road. Down the road, Lawd, Way, way down the road. Got to find somebody
When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
'Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de Charleston!… Da, da, Da, da, da!
Tell all my mourners To mourn in red — Cause there ain’t no sense In my bein’ dead.
been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between 'em they done
Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!