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The haunting wind carries a tale
Of places far away
Of wretched grounds called Scarecrow Fields
Where death has her domain

An ancient land
This cursed soil
Evil lives among the corn
A severed limb
A frightened child
Evil is now reborn
A fallen priest
Engulfed by flames
A promise made of sin
A heap of flesh
A silent scream
Behold as the crucifixion... begins

Beware all those
Who enter this realm
Look out for a murder of crows

They sit quietly
On strung up bodies
Pecking on fresh bones

Throughout the years
No one lifted the curse
And now a deep voice calls

There's only one Lord
On Scarecrow Fields
He Who Walks Behind The Rows

Walks Behind The Rows
Walks Behind The Rows
Walks Behind The Rows

There's only one
One Lord on Scarecrow Fields

There's only one Lord on Scarecrow Fields

The haunting wind carries a tale
Of places far away
Of wretched grounds called Scarecrow Fields
Where death... has her domain

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