Oh No! Could This Really Be The Last Straw? Poem by Alien Zoo

A cropfield, populated by one scarecrow
Birds got used to him
Functions lost
A waste
Standing here
Dead
Alarm set to snooze
Not waking up entirely
Just to fall back asleep
Guess that it's checkmate, touche
Guess gamblin' is what got me here

A cropfield, populated by one scarecrow
Crows got used to sit on him
Just to sting his pride
the straws are falling out

A cropfield, populated by one scarecrow
Watched the sun passing me by
and prayed for a hundred blood moons
Have mercy once more
To let the sun pass by
Because my straws are dry

This is the last straw
When seen everthing
but looked at nothing at all
From ashes once raised
to ashes again
In between, burning alive