For the rain to wither, for the wind to suck
Bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
Bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop
Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop, it's dead
Here is a fruit for the crow to pluck
Here is a fruit for the crow to pluck
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh
Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
For the rain to wither, for the wind to suck
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees