It was Saturday night in a deep Southern Town.
It was too hot for the Lawmen, they were just sitting around.
The judge had put away his judgment gown.
The night was cast & set in a frown.

White cloaked & pointed hooded ghouls with torches aflame,
were all set & ready for their nightgames.
They played the hunters after the prey,
When they were on the prowl
decent folk stayed away. M.L.K.

Ch
It was Saturday night in the land of strange fruit.
The beer-swilling police, just couldn't give a hoot.
It was Saturday night in the land of strange fruit.
Where the fruit that swayed wore clothes & worn boots.

Funny how so many lawmen had blind eyes too,
when the crowd called for the kill & strained for a view.
When the police turned up 60 years too late,
to a town that was twinned with a town called hate.