In Harlem

By Marcus B. Christian

Here is what they say the folks in Harlem do:

Just take their fine clothes to the Jew,

To get gin money when they're feeling blue

Then they dance and love the whole night through

In Harlem.

Jazz bands playing in dim retreats,

Holy men, number men, crooks and cheats,

Dark queen and princes parade the streets

And blood, like an African tom-tom beats

In Harlem.

A populace yelling for life denied,

A rhythmical, fast-whirling, dark-skinned tide,

Where joy lives forever and fear has died,

For God and the devil walk side by side

In Harlem.

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