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Strange Fruit wrote: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.

fgalkin wrote:I take it you've never heard of that song before? Yes it is dark, and it is haunting.

Have a very nice day.
-fgalkin

Agent Fisher wrote:A good piece of nice haunting music is "Amazing Grace" played on a single bagpipe slowly. Like the funeral scene for Spock in ST:TWoK. Now, I dont know if it matches this, since I havent heard this song.

O, Death
O, Death
Won't you spare me over til another year
Well what is this that I can't see
With ice cold hands takin' hold of me
Well I am death, none can excel
I'll open the door to heaven or hell
Whoa, death someone would pray
Could you wait to call me another day
The children prayed, the preacher preached
Time and mercy is out of your reach
I'll fix your feet til you cant walk
I'll lock your jaw til you cant talk
I'll close your eyes so you can't see
This very air, come and go with me
I'm death I come to take the soul
Leave the body and leave it cold
To draw up the flesh off of the frame
Dirt and worm both have a claim
O, Death
O, Death
<snip>

In the field tanks roared,
Soldiers went into their last battle,
And they carried off the young commander
Shot through the head
And they carried off the young commander
Shot through the head

An ingot of iron struck the tank,
Goodbye our crew.
Four bodies by the tank
Add to the morning landscape
Four bodies by the tank
Add to the morning landscape

The machine is embraced by flame,
Just about ripping open the unit,
And the boys so wanted to live
But they don't have the strength to get out
And the boys so wanted to live
But they don't have the strength to get out

They will pull us out from under the scrap metal,
Our carcasses smoke in their arms.
And the volleys of the mainguns
See us of off on our final journey
And the volleys of the mainguns
See us of off on our final journey

And here telegrams will fly,
Informing relatives and close friends,
That your son will not return
And won't come to visit
That your son will not return
And won't come to visit

In the corner the old mother begins to cry,
The old father brushes away a tear,
And the young girl won't learn,
How the young fellow died
And the young girl won't learn,
How the young fellow died.

And a picture will gather dust,
On a shelf full of yellowed books,
In a military uniform with shoulderboards
And to her he isn't a groom anymore
In a military uniform with shoulderboards
And to her he isn't a groom anymore.

english translation brought to you by http://www.geocities.com/a3apt/notdone/napoletank.html
!report any error/typo here! ***

Agent Fisher wrote:A good piece of nice haunting music is "Amazing Grace" played on a single bagpipe slowly. Like the funeral scene for Spock in ST:TWoK. Now, I dont know if it matches this, since I havent heard this song.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!

I went down to Captain Tony's
To get out of the heat
Then I heard a voice call out to me
"Son come have a seat"
I had to search my memory
As I looked into those eyes
Our lives change like the weather
But a legend never dies

He said I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there's still so much to be done

I had a third world girl in Buzios
With a pistol in each hand
She always kept me covered
As we moved from land to land

I had a damn good run on Wall Street
With my high fashion model wife
I woke up dry beneath the African sky
Just me and my Swiss Army knife

I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there's still so much to be done

We shot the breeze for hours
As the sun fell from the sky
And like the sun he disappeared
Before my very eyes

It was somewhere past dark-thirty
And I went back to the head
I read upon the dingy wall
The words the old man said:

I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there's still so much to be done

I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there's still so much to be done

That's why we wander and follow La Vie Dansante

Leon Rosselson wrote:In sixteen forty nine, to St George's Hill
a ragged band they called the Diggers came to show the peoples' will
they defied the Landlords, they defied the laws
they were the dispossessed, reclaiming what was theirs

"We come in peace" they said, to dig and sow
we come to work the lands in common and to make the wastegrounds grow
this earth divided, we will make whole
so it will be a common treasury for all

The sin of property, we do disdain
no man has any right to buy and sell the earth for private gain
by theft and murder, they took the land
now everywhere the walls spring up at their command

They make the laws, to chain us well
the clergy dazzle us with heaven or they damn us into hell
we will not worship, the god they serve
the god of greed who feeds the rich while poor man starve

We work, we eat together, we need no swords
we will not bow to the masters or pay rent to the lords
we are free men, though we are poor
you diggers all stand up for glory stand up now

From the men of property, the orders came
they sent the hired men and troopers to wipe out the Diggers' claim
tear down their cottages, destroy their corn
they were dispersed, but still the vision lingers on

You poor take courage, you rich take care
this earth was made a common treasury for everyone to share
all things in common, all people one
we come in peace, the orders came to cut them down

John Prine wrote:Sam Stone

Sam Stone came home,
To his wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knee.
But the morphine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
And gave him all the confidence he lacked,
With a Purple Heart and a monkey on his back.

Chorus:
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.
Mmm....

Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
And Sammy took to stealing
When he got that empty feeling
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And the gold rolled through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes...

Repeat Chorus:

Sam Stone was alone
When he popped his last balloon
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair
Well, he played his last request
While the room smelled just like death
With an overdose hovering in the air
But life had lost its fun
And there was nothing to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the G. I. Bill

For a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill.

Repeat Chorus

He went to Paris lookin' for answers
To questions that bothered him so
He was impressive, young and aggressive
Savin' the world on his own

But the warm summer breezes
The French wines and cheeses
Put his ambition at bay
The summers and winters
Scattered like splinters
And four or five years slipped away

Then he went to England, played the piano
And married an actress named Kim
They had a fine life, she was a good wife
And bore him a young son named Jim

And all of the answers and all of the questions
Locked in his attic one day
'Cause he liked the quiet clean country livin'
And twenty more years slipped away

Well the war took his baby, the bombs killed his lady
And left him with only one eye
His body was battered, his whole world was shattered
And all he could do was just cry

While the tears were a-fallin' he was recallin'
Answers he never found
So he hopped on a freighter, skidded the ocean
And left England without a sound

Now he lives in the islands, fishes the pilin's
And drinks his Green Label each day
Writing his memoirs, losin' his hearin'
But he don't care what most people say

Through eighty-six years of perpetual motion
If he likes you he'll smile and he'll say
"Jimmy, some of it's magic, some of it's tragic
But I had a good life all the way"

And he went to Paris lookin' for answers
To questions... that bothered him so

The last that ever she saw him,
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
He passed on worried and warning,
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
Lost in a riddle that Saturday night,
Far away on the other side
He was caught in the middle of a desperate fight,
And she couldn't find how to push through.

The trees that whisper in the evening
Varried away by a moonlight shadow,
Sing the song of sorrow and grieving
Carried away by a moonlight shadow,
All she saw was a silhouette of a gun,
Far away on the other side,
He was shot six times by a man on the run,
And she couldn't find how to push through.

I stay, I pray, I see you in heaven far away,
I stay, I pray, I see you in heaven one day.

Four a.m. in the morning
Carried away by a moonlight shadow,
I watched your vision forming
Carried away by a moonlight shadow,
Star was glowin' in a silvery night
Far away on the other side,
Will you come to talk to me this night
But she couldn't find how to push through.

I stay, I pray, I see you in heaven far away,
I stay, I pray, I see you in heaven one day.

Caught in the middle of a hundred and five.
The night was heavy and the air was alive,
But she couldn't find how to push through.

Carried away by a moonlight shadow.
Carried away by a moonlight shadow...

Fleet Admiral JD wrote:The arrangement of "Strange Fruit" I have also has a drumset, in addition to the sax (alto or tenor?) and piano.

Wohin auch das Auge blicket,
Moor und Heide nur ringsum.
Vogelsang uns nie erquicket,
Eichen stehen kahl und krumm.
Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

Hier in dieser öden Heide
ist das Lager aufgebaut,
wo wir fern von jeder Freude
hinter Stacheldraht verstaut.
wir sind die Moorsoldaten
und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

Morgens ziehen die Kolonnen
in das Moor zur Arbeit hin,
graben bei dem Brand der Sonnen,
doch zur Heimat steht ihr Sinn.
Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.


Heimwärts, heimwärts! Jeder sehnet
sich nach Eltern, Weib und Kind.
Manche Brust ein Seufzer dehnet,
weil wir hier gefangen sind.
Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

Auf und nieder gehn die Posten,
keiner, keiner kann hindurch.
Flucht wird nur das Leben kosten.
Vierfach ist umzäunt die Burg.
Wir sind die Moorsoldaten
und ziehen mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

Doch für uns gibt es kein Klagen.
Ewig kann´s nicht Winter sein.
Einmal werden froh wir sagen:
Heimat , du bist wieder mein!
Dann ziehn die Moorsoldaten
nicht mehr mit dem Spaten ins Moor.

...

Now she wonders at it all
Just in his name did he break, your heroes fall
And how many more are gonna answer the call
They’re gonna fight, fight and die in another country’s war
They’re gonna die for religion, they didn’t believe in at all
They’re gonna die in a place, they should never been at all

...