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 cry.

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Strange Fruit - lyrics written anonymously and recorded by Billie Holiday. Why here? I watched "Lightning in a Bottle" this weekend and India Arie sings this nut-clencher in it. Shivers. I hear Cassandra Wilson's version is even MORE gooder - have to flag that one. I also watched "Kinsey" which was nicely done. Laura Linney must have decided to mask the sizzle she had in "P.S." but came off OK anyway.