The Scarecrow doesn’t just walk at midnight. Don’t run little bird, he loves a good chase through the cornfield. Come a little closer and he just might steal your heart.

On the dark October Eve
The field ‘twas filled with many screams
Cries for help, rang o’re the corn
And the wind went whispering through the leaves
A smile crept across his lips
Love at first sight
Sealed with a bloody kiss