When I was home de
Sunshine seemed like gold.
When I was home de
Sunshine seemed like gold.
Since I come up North de
Whole damn world’s turned cold.
I was a good boy,
Never done no wrong.
Yes, I was a good boy,
Never done no wrong,
But this world is weary
An’ de road is hard an’ long.
I fell in love with
A gal I thought was kind.
Fell in love with
A gal I thought was kind.
She made me lose ma money
An’ almost lose ma mind.
Weary, weary,
Weary early in de morn.
Weary, weary,
Early, early in de morn.
I’s so weary
I wish I’d never been born.
I’m waitin’ for de springtime
When de tulips grow—
Sweet, sweet springtime
When de tulips grow;
Cause if I’d die in de winter
They’d bury me under snow.
Un’neath de snow, Lawd,
Oh, what would I do?
Un’neath de snow,
I say what would I do?
It’s bad enough to die but
I don’t want freezin’ too.
I’m waitin’ for de springtime
An’ de roses red,
Waitin’ for de springtime
When de roses red
’Ll make a nice coverin’
Fer a gal that’s dead.
Dusk dark
On Railroad Avenue.
Lights in the fish joints,
Lights in the pool rooms.
A box-car some train
Has forgotten
In the middle of the
Block.
A player piano,
A victrola.
942
Was the number.
A boy
Lounging on a corner.
A passing girl
With purple powdered skin.
Laughter
Suddenly
Like a taut drum.
Laughter
Suddenly
Neither truth nor lie.
Laughter
Hardening the dusk dark evening.
Laughter
Shaking the lights in the fish joints,
Rolling white balls in the pool rooms,
And leaving untouched the box-car
Some train has forgotten.
I got a job now
Runnin’ an elevator
In the Dennison Hotel in Jersey.
Job ain’t no good though.
No money around.
Jobs are just chances
Like everthing else.
Maybe a little luck now,
Maybe not.
Maybe a good job sometimes:
Step out o’ the barrel, boy.
Two new suits an’
A woman to sleep with.
Maybe no luck for a long time.
Only the elevators
Goin’ up an’ down,
Up an’ down,
Or somebody elses’ shoes
To shine,
Or greasy pots in a dirty kitchen.
I been runnin’ this
Elevator too long.
Guess I’ll quit now.
O, sweep of stars over Harlem streets,
O, little breath of oblivion that is night;
A city building
To a mother’s song.
A city building
To a lullabye.
Dark boy,
Reach up your hand and take a star
Out of the little breath of oblivion
That is night,
Take just one star.
Clean the spitoons, boy.
Detroit,
Chicago,
Atlantic City,
Palm Beach.
Clean the spitoons.
The steam in hotel kitchens,
And the smoke in hotel lobbies,
And the slime in hotel spitoons:
Part of my life.
Hey, boy!
A nickel,
A dime,
A dollar,
Two dollars a day.
Hey, boy!
A nickel,
A dime,
A dollar,
Two dollars
Buys shoes for the baby.
House rent to pay.
Gin on Saturday,
Church on Sunday.
My God!
Babies and girl and church
and women and Sunday
all mixed up with dimes and
dollars and clean spitoons
and house rent to pay.
Hey, boy!
A bright bowl of brass is beautiful to the Lord.
Bright polished brass like the cymbals
Of King David’s dancers,
Like the wine cups of Solomon.
Hey, boy!
A clean spitoon on the altar of the Lord.
A clean bright spitoon all newly polished—
At least I can offer that.
Com’ mere, boy!
That little yaller gal
Wid blue-green eyes:
If her daddy ain’t white
Would be a surprise.
She don’t drink gin
An’ she don’t like corn.
I asked her one night
Where she was born.
An’ she say, Honey,
I don’t know
Where I come from
Or where I go.
That crazy little yaller gal
Wid blue-green eyes:
If her daddy ain’t ’fay
Would be a surprise.
An’ there she sets a cryin’
In de cabaret
A lookin’ all sad
When she ought to play.
My God, I says,
You can’t live that way!
Babe, you can’t
Live that way!
Now lookahere, gal,
Don’t you talk ’bout me.
I got mo’ hair ’n you evah did see,
An’ if I ain’t high yaller
I ain’t coal black,
So what you said ’bout me
You bettah take it back.
Now, listen, Corrine,
I don’t talk ’bout you.
I’s got much mo’
Important things to do.
All right, gal,
But I’m speakin’ ma mind:
You bettah keep yo’ freight train
Off ma line.
Play it once.
O, play some more.
Charlie is a gambler
An’ Sadie is a whore.
A glass o’ whiskey
An’ a glass o’ gin:
Strut, Mr. Charlie,
Till de dawn comes in.
Pawn yo’ gold watch
An’ diamond ring.
Git a quart o’ licker,
Let’s shake dat thing!
Skee-de-dad! De-dad!
Doo-doo-doo!
Won’t be nothin’ left
When de worms git through
An’ you’s a long time
Dead
When you is
Dead, too.
So beat dat drum, boy!
Shout dat song:
Shake ’em up an’ shake ’em up
All night long.
Hey! Hey!
Ho … Hum!
Do, it, Mr. Charlie,
Till de red dawn come.
(2 A.M.)
Everybody
Half-pint—
Gin?
No, make it
loves my baby
corn. You like
liquor,
don’t you, honey?
but my baby
Sure. Kiss me,
don’t love nobody
daddy.
but me.
Say!
Everybody
Yes?
wants my baby
I’m your
but my baby
sweetie, ain’t I?
don’t want nobody
Sure.
but
Then let’s
me,
do it!
sweet me.
Charleston,
mamma!
!
She
Who searched for lovers
In the night
Has gone the quiet way
Into the still,
Dark land of death
Beyond the rim of day.
Now like a little lonely waif
She walks
An endless street
And gives her kiss to nothingness.
Would God his lips were sweet!
Sleek black boys in a cabaret.
Jazz-band, jazz-band—
Play, play, play!
Tomorrow … who knows?
Dance today!
White girls’ eyes
Call gay black boys.
Black boys’ lips
Grin jungle joys.
Dark brown girls
In blond men’s arms.
Jazz-band, jazz-band—
Sing Eve’s charms!
White ones, brown ones,
What do you know
About tomorrow
Where all paths go?
Jazz-boys, jazz-boys,–
Play, play, play!
Tomorrow … is darkness.
Joy today!
Wine-maiden
Of the jazz-tuned night,
Lips
Sweet as purple dew,
Breasts
Like the pillows of all sweet dreams,
Who crushed
The grapes of joy
And dripped their juice
On you?
Hey! Hey!
That’s what the
Blues singers say.
Singing minor melodies
They laugh,
Hey! Hey!
My man’s done left me,
Chile, he’s gone away.
My good man’s left me,
Babe, he’s gone away.
Now the cryin’ blues
Haunts me night and day.
Hey! … Hey!
Weary,
Weary,
Trouble, pain.
Sun’s gonna shine
Somewhere
Again.
I got a railroad ticket,
Pack my trunk and ride.
Sing ’em, sister!
Got a railroad ticket,
Pack my trunk and ride.
And when I get on the train
I’ll cast my
