Southern trees bear a strange fruit
blood on the leaves
and blood at the root
black body swingin' in the southern breeze
strange fruit hangin' from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the galant south
the bulging eyes
and the twisted mouth
scent of magnolia sweet and fresh
and the sudden smell of burning flesh
Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
for the rain to gather
and the wind to suck
for the sun to rot, for a tree to drop
Oh! Here is a strange and bitter crop.