The Scarecrow
The death of the scarecrow
amonst the weeping trees
Death follow behind him
in a deadly deadly breeze
The victom crys upon him
in weeping crying pain
The weeds and the evil
the death he must obtain
The weather cries amongst them
in the weeping trees
The bodies are a burning
one hundred two degrees
The wind that's in the air
the branches knocking at your door
The evil crys amongst them
to live never more
Michael E.
