The black and green scarecrow, as ev ryone knows,
Stood with a bird on his hat and straw ev rywhere
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 s, cause life s not unkind
He doesn t mind
He stood in a field where barley grows
