Strange Fruit

Southern trees
Bearing strange fruit
Blood on the leaves
And blood at the roots
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
Them big bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia, clean and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh
Here is a fruit
For the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the leaves to drop
Here is a strange
And bitter crop