Strange Fruit
Abel Meeropol / Lewis Allan
Southern Trees bare 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.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes, the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh
Here is the fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop
Here is a strange
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
Strange fruit
Strange fruit hanging
Strange fruit hanging
Strange fruit
Strange fruit hanging
Strange fruit