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by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Folks aint got no right to censuah uthah folks ahout
dey habits;
Him dat giv de squir'ls de bushtails made de bobtails
fu' de rabbits.
Him dat built de grea' big mountains hollered out de
little valleys,
Him dat made de streets an' driveways wasn't shamed
to make de alleys.

We is all constructed diff'rent, d'ain't no two of us de
We can't he'p ouah likes an' dislikes, ef we'se bad we
ain't to blame.
Ef we'se good, we needn't show off, case you bet it ain't
ouah doin'
We gits into su'ttain channels dat we jes caint he'p

But we all fits into places dat no othah ones cud fill
An' we does the things we has to, big er little, good er
John cain't tek de place o' Henry, Su an' Sally ain't
Bass ain't nuthin' like a suckah, chub ain't nuthin'
like a pike.

When you come to think about it, how it's all planned
out it's splendid.
Nuthin's done er evah happens, 'dout hit's somefin'
dat's intended;
Don't keer whut you does, you has to, an' hit sholy
beats de dickens,--
Viney go put on de kittle, I got one o' mastah's