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 being buried alive
Black belts and barnyards chills up my spine
Writer(s): Nicholas Power
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