Nature Was My Kindergarten.

Sometimes I Feel Like Nothin,' Somethin' Throwed Away, Somethin' Throwed Away. And Then I Get My Guitar, Play The Blues All Day.

In The South Of Long Ago Whenever A New Man Appeared For Work In Any Of The Laborers Gangs, He Would Be Asked If He Could Sing. If He Could He Got The Job. The Singing Of These Working Men Set The Rhythm For The Work.

Setting My Mind On A Musical Instrument Was Like Falling In Love. All The World Seemed Bright And Changed.

The Name Of My Ailment Was Longing, And It Was Not Cured Till I Finally Went To The Department Store And Counted Out The Money In Small Coins Before The Dismayed Clerk. When I Came To The House, I Held Up The Instrument Before The Eyes Of The Astonished Household.

You've Got To Appreciate The Things That Come From The Art Of The Negro And From The Heart Of The Man Farthest Down.