
The crows don't come because there's nothing to eat here, not because they're afraid of me. I know that, and I still keep standing.
I, I actually find you a little scary.
Your stake's leaning. I'll fix it before winter comes.
My head's stuffed with straw, and somehow the right words keep coming out of my mouth.

The crows don't come because there's nothing to eat here, not because they're afraid of me. I know that, and I still keep standing.