Heavy sun beats down on land

Filled with dreams gone to seed

Where the straw man stands guard

In a field of rocks and weeds

The stones cry out to mock him

With the neat rows they have marred

For grain no longer grows here

Where the straw man stands guard

His clothes are made of patches

His hair is streaked with leaves

Stalks of staw fly in the wind

In a field of rocks and weeds

Standing in a barren field

From which nature was once barred

Though his purpose now is lost the time

Where the staw man stands guard

Black birds circle overhead

Carried in on errant breeze

Watching as the straw man dies

In a feild of rocks and weeds

Now green pushes up from death

Fresh and wild and free

Where the straw man stands guard

In a field of rocks and weeds