Scarecrow ! Scarecrow !
The soldiers of the king feared his name : " Scarecrow" !

On the southern coast of England, there's a legend people tell
Of days long ago when the great Scarecrow
Would ride from the jaws of Hell
And laugh with a fiendish yell !

With his clothes all torn and tattered, through the black of night he'd ride
From the marsh to the coast like a demon ghost
He'd show his face then hide
And he'd laugh...Till he split his side !

So the King told all his soldiers: « Hang him high or hang him low !
But never return till the day I learn he's gone in flames below
Or you'll hang - with the great Scarecrow ! »

Scarecrow ! Scarecrow !
The soldiers of the King feared his name
Scarecrow ! Scarecrow !
The country folk all loved him just the same : " Scarecrow" !

He would always help the farmer, when there was no gold to bring
He'd find a way for the poor to pay the taxes of the King
« Scarecrow ! » Every man would sing !

Scarecrow ! Scarecrow !
The soldiers of the King feared his name
Scarecrow ! Scarecrow !
The country folk all loved him just the same
Scarecrow ! Scarecrow ! Scarecrow !