Strange fruit, hanging from trees

Strange fruit, beautiful misery

Strange fruit, the hateful part of my history

Southern cities and towns in the backwoods of Mississippi

Tears flow like rivers from the eyes of the family.

In a country where black skin is guilty until proven innocent

And that guilt trip causes arrests then lynchings

Pity in these bloody streets

Moon lit, reflecting off machetes

Rope tied, hog tied, bandana blind

Fear felt through the trembling of fingertips

Heart racing, sweat glistening

Bruises and cuts bleeding from the beatings

And all the witness seeing this tormenting of these black men, women, and child

Chasing my ancestors through the wild

All while, we cry

Together. We fight or die.

Strange fruit, hanging from trees

Strange fruit, beautiful misery

Strange fruit, the hateful part of my history