Paroles de Strange Fruit

Southern trees Bear a strange fruit Blood on the leaves Blood at the root Black bodies swinging In the southern breeze Strange fruit hanging From the poplar tree Pastoral scene of the Gallant south The bulging eyes and The twisted mouth Scent of magnolia So 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 For the Sun to rot For the trees to drop Drop Ah the trees to drop Strange and bitter crop Still strange and bitter