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Hung out to Dry
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Southern Trees bear a strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves blood on the root,
Black body swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees,
Pastoral scent of the gallant 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,for the wind to suck,
Sor the sun to rot,for a tree to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
Blood on the leaves blood on the root,
Black body swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees,
Pastoral scent of the gallant 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,for the wind to suck,
Sor the sun to rot,for a tree to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
Strange Fruit