Corny, the scarecrow,
Was a fun and playful soul,
Stuffed with corn shucks,
And anchored to a long pole.
Corny, the scarecrow,
Is a creepy, daunting sort,
Made of last year’s crops,
Bathed in morning’s dewdrops,
He’s never had an escort.
There must have been some wonderful
In those overhauls he’s wearing,
Because when he put them on his form,
No other scarecrow was worth comparing.
Oh, Corny,...
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