Nina Simone Follow

Southern treesBear strange fruitBlood on the
leavesAnd blood at the rootsBlack bodiesSwinging in the southern breezeStrange fruit
hangin'From the poplar treesPastoral sceneOf the gallant southThem big bulging eyesAnd the
twisted mouthScent of magnoliaClean and freshThen the sudden smellOf burnin' fleshHere is
a fruitFor the crows to pluckFor the rain to
gatherFor the wind to suckFor the sun to rotFor the leaves to dropHere isStrange and bitter
cropAs singed by Billie HolidaySouthern trees bear strange fruit,Blood on the leaves
and blood at the root,Black bodies 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 magnolias,
sweet and fresh,Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,For the rain
to gather, for the wind to suck,For the sun to rot, for
the trees to drop,Here is a strange and bitter cry.