The Scarecrow

O all you little blackey tops,

Pray don’t you eat my father’s crops,

While I lie down to take a nap.

Shua O! Shua O!

If father he perchance should come,

With his cocked hat and his long gun,

Then you must fly and I must run.

Shua O! Shua O!

O all you little blackey tops,

Pray don’t you eat my father’s crops,

While I lie down to take a nap.

Shua O! Shua O!

If father he perchance should come,

With his cocked hat and his long gun,

Then you must fly and I must run.

Shua O! Shua O!

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