Strange Fruit - Billie Holiday

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 crop.

Poema escrito por Lewis Allen. Cantada por muchos, entre ellos, Billie Holiday

Blue Moon - Billie Holiday

Blue moon,
You saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love on my own.

Blue moon,
You knew just what I was there for
You heard me saying a prayer for
Somebody I realy could care for.

And then there suddenly appeared before me,
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper, "please adore me."
And when I looked,
The moon had turned to gold.

Blue moon,
Now I'm no longer alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own.