Scarecrow - in the Wyoming winter dawn. Scarecrow - that silhouette I chanced upon, fashioned with such flair, I'm sure we met somewhere. Scarecrow, I know you.
Scarecrow - can it be who you longed to kiss, Scarecrow - that left you hanging here like this? Or who you'd yet to hold, in dreams you left untold? Scarecrow, they're mine too. Scarecrow, I know you.
What penalty must we perform for craving someone warm, somewhere upon this chilly planet? A rifle butt against the head, because we'd heard it said that only God can make a man. It's true. But only man can make a scarecrow out of you. And only man can make a God who might approve.
Scarecrow - those who seek metaphor compare Scarecrow - that other man left hanging there. But it seems to me that comes too easily. Scarecrow, this much is true. Scarecrow, I know you. Why, oh why Wyoming? Why, oh why Wyoming? If we only had a heart. If we only had a brain. If we only had a chance again, just a little chance again.