Abstract
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze fruit hanging from the poplar trees Pastoral scene of the gallant south The bulging eyes and twisted mouth The gentle 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 trees to dry out Here is the strange and bitter crop -lyrics to Strange Fruit (Allan 1940)
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