Southern trees bear a strange fruit   Blood on the leaves and blood at the root   Black body swinging in the southern breeze   Strange fruit hanging 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, for the wind to suck   For the sun to rot, for the tree to drop   Here is a strange and bitter crop