Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Southern 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
[Verse 2]
Pastoral scene
Of the gallant south
Them big, bulging eyes
And the twisted mouth
The scent of magnolia
Sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell
Of burning flesh
[Verse 3]
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 leaves to drop
Here is a strange
And bitter crop
Written by: Lewis Allan
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