I am a Negro:
      Black as the night is black,
      Black like the depths of my Africa.

I've been a slave:
     Caesar told me to keep his door-steps clean.
     I brushed the boots of Washington.

I've been a worker:
     Under my hands the pyramids arose.
     I made mortar for the Woolworth Building.

I've been a singer:
     All the way from Africa to Georgia
     I carried my sorrow songs.
     I made ragtime.

I've been a victim:
     The Belgians cut off my hands in the Congo.
     They lynch me still in Mississippi.

I am a Negro:
     Black as the night is black,
     Black like the depths of my Africa.

I had some cards printed
The other day.
They cost me more
Than I wanted to pay.

I told the man
I wasn't no mint,
But I hankered to see
My name in print.

MADAM JOHNSON,
ALBERTA K.
He said, Your name looks good
Madam'd that way.

Shall I use Old English
Or a Roman letter?
I said, Use American.
American's better.

There's nothing foreign
To my pedigree:
Alberta K. Johnson--
American that's me.