Road's In Front O' Me, Nothin' To

Keep Your Hand On The Plow. Hold On.

In The Spring Rain, The Pond And The River Become One. Into Every Life Some Rain Must Fall. Usually When Your Car Windows Are Down. It Raineth On The Just And The Unjust Alike, But The Unjust Stealeth The Just's Umbrella Let The Rain Kiss You. Let The Rain Beat Upon Your Head With Silver Liquid Drops. Let The Rain Sing You A Lullaby.

Well, When Christ Comes Back This Time, I Hope He Comes Back Mad His Own Self. I Hope He Drives The Jim Crowers Out Of Their High Places, Every Living Last One Of Them From Washington To Texas.

Beauty For Some Provides Escape, Who Gain A Happiness In Eyeing The Gorgeous Buttocks Of The Ape Or Autumn Sunsets Exquisitely Dying.

We Negro Writers, Just By Being Black, Have Been On The Blacklist All Our Lives. Censorship For Us Begins At The Color Line.