[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
Of the bulging eyes
And the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolias
Sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell
Of burning flesh
Ooh-ooh

[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 tree to drop
Here is a strange
And bitter crop