Strange Fruit
Southern trees bear strange fruit
Blood on the leaves, blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant South
With the bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia, sweet 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 tree to drop.
Strange fruit, strange fruit.
Here is a strange and bitter crop
