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 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,
for the sun to rot for a tree to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop
Strange Fruit (Lewis Allan)