The Scarecrow Tomb -

As the farmer is stuffing his scarecrow with fresh new straw

He cut his finger on a rusted nail

His blood oozed into the creature’s tattered flesh

Then the wind began to blow violently

The cornfields swayed nervously

That night, the farmer died

The next day he found himself nailed to a wooden pole

In the center of the cornfield

He tried to scream

But his mouth was sewn shut with yllow yarn

Crows pecked at his face, and drank th tears from his weeping eyes