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 then 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.