The Billie Holiday song is on the right-hand side...
Wish I was in the land of cotton,
Where the skies are so blue.
Sir, ponder Southern hospitality,
Rhett Butler, tarts, grits, dinner at noon.
The belle on her front porch,
We reckon's Suzette
(From far off, bless her heart).
Laughter, strength one cannot forget.
Tulle netting under her dress,
Bonnet or hat...
Buggies / Dad's pickup, ladies of breeding.
Sweet Home Alabama's fresh fish to catch.
Old times there are not forgotten.
Better get a gun
- God save the South! -
To hold a fort, hunt pigs, for fun...
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 the 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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