The Scarecrow

The black and green scarecrow as everyone knows
Stood with a bird on his hat and swore
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-a-pup and mice ran
Around and ground
He stood in a field where barley grows

The black and green scarecrow was sadder than me
But now he's resined to his fate 'cause life's not
Unkind, he doesn't mind
He stood in a field where barley grows