Strange Fruit

Southern trees bear strange fruit Blood on the leaves and blood at the root Her black body's swinging in the southern breeze Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees Pastoral scene of the gallant south Of the bulging eyes and the twisted mouth Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh And then the sudden smell of burning flesh Now here is your fruit for the crows to pluck For the rain to gather, for the wind to s*ck For the sun to rot, for the tree to drop Now here is your strange and bitter crop Strange fruit