Paroles Billie Holiday Strange Fruit

Lewis Allen

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.

Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The 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 wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
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• Par Alan le 2008/08/23 21:45

  Nice writing. You are on my RSS reader now so I can read more from you down the road.

• Par slDqJvZvTko le 2008/06/11 03:15

  _urlsvip.txt;10;10

• Par gAFjnmdVuoDGK le 2008/05/07 00:52

  I just don't have much to say lately. I've pretty much been doing nothing to speak of, but that's how it is. Eh. Nothing seems worth thinking about, but I don't care. Today was a loss. Oh well.,

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