The Scarecrow

The black and green scarecrow as everyone knows

Stood with a bird on his hat and straw everywhere

He didn't care

He stood in a field where barley grows

His head did no thinking, his arms didn't move

Except when the wind cut up rough

And mice ran around on the ground

He stood in a field where barley grows

The black and green scarecrow is sadder than me

But now he's resigned to his fate

'Cause life's not unkind, he doesn't mind

He stood in a field where barley grows