#Americans #Blacks
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
I know I am The Negro Problem Being wined and dined, Answering the usual questions That come to white mind
Fine living . . . a la carte? Come to the Waldorf—Astoria! LISTEN HUNGRY ONES! Look! See what Vanity Fair says… new Waldorf—Astoria:
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
You sicken me with lies, With truthful lies. And with your pious faces. And your wide, out—stretched, mock—welcome, Christian hands.
Here I sit With my shoes mismated. Lawdy—mercy! I’s frustrated!
Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
Down in the bass That steady beat Walking walking walking Like marching feet. Down in the bass
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
I dream a world where man No other man will scorn, Where love will bless the earth And peace its paths adorn I dream a world where all
Gather quickly Out of darkness All the songs you know And throw them at the sun Before they melt
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flam… Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead d…
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
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,
