Southern trees bear a 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’s a fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the tree to drop
Here’s a strange and bitter crop(Words & music by Wayne - Manzanero)
It's impossible to tell the sun to leave the sky,
It's just impossible.
It's impossible to ask a baby not to cry,
It's just impossible.
Can I hold you closer to me
And not feel you going through me,
But the second that I never think of you?
Oh, how impossible.
Can the ocean keep from rushing to the shore?
It's just impossible.
If I had you could I ever ask for more?
It's just impossible.
And tomorrow, should you ask me for the world
Somehow I'd get it, I would sell my very soul
And not regret it for to live without your love
Is just impossible
Can the ocean keep from rushing to the shore?
It's just impossible.
If I had you could I ever ask for more?
It's just impossible.
And tomorrow, should you ask me for the world
Somehow I'd get it, I would sell my very soul
And not regret it for to live without your love
Is just impossible
Oh impossible,
Impossible.
Impossible