Malcolm X Made Me Very

It's Ill-becoming For An Old Broad To Sing About How Bad She Wants It. But Occasionally We Do.

I Remember The Day Tdr. King Died. I Wasn't Angry At The Beginning. It Was Like Something Very Personal In My Life Had Been Touched And Finished.

I Was Unique In That I Was A Kind Of Black That White People Could Accept. I Was Their Daydream. I Had The Worst Kind Of Acceptance Because It Was Never For How Great I Was Or What I Contributed. It Was Because Of The Way I Looked.

I Don't Have To Be An Imitation Of A White Woman That Hollywood Sort Of Hoped I'd Become. I'm Me, And I'm Like Nobody Else.

It's So Nice To Get Flowers While You Can Still Smell The Fragrance.