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Abel Meeropol

"Strange Fruit" (karaoke)

"Strange Fruit" (sheet music)


Southern trees bear a strange fruit,

Blood on the leaves and blood on the root,

Black body swinging in the southern breeze,

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Young boys die before their time,

Fear in their hearts and rage in their mind,

No one to give them a hope to hold,

Hope to keep them from the grave's cold.

 

Pastoral scene of the gallant South,

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,

Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh,

And the sudden smell of burning flesh!

Here is the 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!

 

Southern trees bear a strange fruit,

Blood on the leaves and blood on the root,

Black body swinging in the southern breeze,

Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Young boys die before their time,

Fear in their hearts and rage in their mind,

No one to give them a hope to hold,

Hope to keep them from the grave's cold.

 

Pastoral scene of the gallant South,

The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,

Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh,

And the sudden smell of burning flesh!

Here is the 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....


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