Southern trees bear a 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 Bulging eyes and twisted mouth The scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh Then 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 The sun to rot For the trees to drop Here is a strange and bitter crop Here is a strange and bitter crop Here is a strange and bitter crop It's a bitter crop It's a bitter crop