Out in the field when the first has been born   Folks sing a song, song of the corn   Late in the day when the secrets are sworn   Folks tell a tale, tale of the corn    I heard a commotion one late afternoon   Someone was singing a funeral tune   As I lay watching them hoist up the cross   Something was burning, something was lost       Could you believe what the scarecrow had seen   Folks come to fall down to their knees   Rumours of strangers been buried alive   Black bats and ... send chills at my spine