Strange Fruit

[Verse 1]

Southern trees bear a strange fruit

Blood on the leaves and blood at the root

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees

[Verse 2]

Pastoral scene of the gallant south

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth

Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh

Then the sudden smell of burning flesh

[Verse 3]

Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck

For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck

For the sun to rot, and the trees to drop

Here is a strange and bitter crop