Southern trees
Bearing strange fruit
Blood on the leaves
Blood on the root
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 rains to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the leaves to drop
Here is a strange
and bitter crop
Lewis Allan
