Strange Fruit - Karan Casey

Southern trees bearing strange fruits

Blood on the leaves, blood at the roots

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze

There are strange fruits hanging from the poplar trees

Pastoral scene of the gallant south

Them big, 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 winds to suck

For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop

Here is a strange and bitter crop