Southern tree bears strange fruit

Blood on the leaves and blood at the root

A black body swinging in the southern breeze

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees

Pastoral scene of the gallant south

Of the bulging eyes and the twisted mouth

Scent of magnolia, sweet and fresh

And then the sudden smell of burning flesh

Now here is your 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

Now here is your strange and bitter crop