Strange Fruit Lyrics - A Night In Monte Carlo - Marcus Miller

Southern trees bearin' strange fruit 

Blood on the leaves and blood at the roots 

Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze 

Strange fruit 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 fruit 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 a strange and bitter crop 

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