Seven trees
Bearin’ strange [bad word] Blood on the leaves
And blood at the roots
Black bodies
Swinging in the southern breeze
Strange [bad word] hangin’
From the poplar trees
Pastoral scene
Of the gallant south
Them big bulging eyes
And the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia
Clean and fresh
Then the sudden smell
Of burnin’ flesh
Here is a [bad word] For the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the leaves to drop
Here is
Strange and bitter crop

As singed by billie holiday

Southern trees bear strange [bad word] 
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange [bad word] 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 [bad word] 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