Two things happened on my eleventh birthday,
Our neighbor Mr. Tidwell disappeared,
And my dad built a scarecrow,
These two thing seemed foreboding to my young mind,
I was in school when dad built the scarecrow,
When I got home there I was,
In the middle of the vegetable garden,
Every evening at supper my dad ranted,
About the Tidwell,
The Tidwell cow in our pasture,
The Tidwell kids climbing our fence and especially about Mr. Tidwell that lazy dirt farmer,

Fall arrived and while I was in school,
The scarecrow disappeared,
Years after I left home,
I received a letter from a gossipy friend,
Mr. Tidwell it seemed had run away with the redhead,
Who worked at the “curls for you’ beauty parlor,
So now I can only wonder who left the scarecrow,
Hanging in the middle of the vegetable garden,
Anytime I see this scarecrow I think a lion is eating me..