Gather Out Of Star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust,

If You Want To Honor Me, Give Some Young Boy Or Girl Who's Coming Along Trying To Create Arts And Write And Compose And Sing And Act And Paint And Dance And Make Something Out Of The Beauties Of The Negro Race-give That Child Some Help.

Well, Son, I'll Tell You: Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair. It's Had Tacks In It, And Splinters, And Boards Torn Up, And Places With No Carpet On The Floor -- Bare. But All The Time I'se Been A-climbin' On, And Reachin' Landin's, And Turnin' Corners, And Sometimes Goin' In The Dark Where There Ain't Been No Light. So Boy, Don't You Turn Back. Don't You Set Down On The Steps 'cause You Finds It's Kinder Hard. Don't You Fall Now -- For I'se Still Goin', Honey, I'se Still Climbin', And Life For Me Ain't Been No Crystal Stair.

I Don't Dare Start Thinking In The Morning. I Don't Dare Start Thinking In The Morning. If I Thought Thoughts In Bed, Them Thoughts Would Bust My Head-- So I Don't Dare Start Thinking In The Morning.

Because My Mouth Is Wide With Laughter And My Throat Is Deep With Song, You Do Not Think I Suffer After I Have Held My Pain So Long? Because My Mouth Is Wide With Laughter You Do Not Hear My Inner Cry? Because My Feet Are Gay With Dancing You Do Not Know I Die?

As Long As What Is Is-and Georgia Is Georgia-i Will Take Harlem For Mine. At Least, If Trouble Comes, I Will Have My Own Window To Shoot From.