Children of the Corn

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When our weeping's over

He will bid us welcome

We shall come rejoicing

Bringing in the sheaves

Bringing

in the sheaves

Bringing in the sheaves

We shall come rejoicing

Bringing in the sheaves

Bringing in the sheaves

Bringing in the sheaves

We shall come rejoicing

Bringing in the sheaves

Now you've got drought here.

You've got drought

right here in Gatlin, Nebraska.

And there's not gonna be

no harvest this year--

not in this Lord's year

of 1963, there ain't.

- And say why.

- All:
Sin.

Say that louder.

Sin!

Oh, we drown in sin here,

and there's no rain for our corn.

And why is that?

Preacher:
Because of

all of the adults in this world.

God has spoken to me

in a dream.

And in that dream

He said that

all adults are sinners!

He said there's

not a soul here in Gatlin

over the age of 19

who isn't wallowing in sin,

loving it, even as they drown

like pigs in a mire.

It says in the Good Book,

"Suffer the children

to come unto me."

And if this town has any hope,

it's in you young people.

And so I want you to shout it out!

All:
Sin!

But, brothers and sisters,

we know the old ways of God,

isn't it so?

We know there's

a God of the Old Testament,

as well as the New--

the God of sacrifice,

the God who walked

on the face of the earth,

He Who Walks

Behind The Rows.

All:

He Who Walks Behind The Rows.

He Who Walks

Behind The Rows.

God does speak to me

in my dreams,

and God has told me

that it is now our time--

time to make sacrifice,

time to kill!

Now the Good Book does say

that a child shall lead them.

So do what God tells me

in my dreams to tell to you,

and never go without water

or be hungry again!

All:
Praise God.

Praise the Lord.

Praise God. Praise the Lord.

Praise God!

Man:

Hail Mary, full of grace,

help me win this stock car race.

All right. Boogie.

Riding on the road

to nowhere

- Trying to keep love alive...

- Woman:
Turn it down!

Do you want to break

my eardrums?

Yes, Vicky.

Whatever you say.

Man on radio:
...who was

cited for reckless driving.

Be happy

if you'll just stay with me

I know everything

will be all right

We'll laugh and we'll sing

all through the night...

- Vicky:
Too loud, Burt!

- What's that?

You play it like that

- just to get under my skin.

- Oh, come on.

Your paranoia is

showing again, Vicky.

Sometimes, I wonder

how I ended up married to you.

By saying two little words.

Shut up.

Nebraska.

I'm hungry. Where are we?

Nebraska.

Yes, I know that.

But where in the hell are we?

Where's the lunch stop?

You've got the road atlas.

You should look it up.

You still remember

how to read, don't you?

Such a comedian.

Is that why we got off the interstate,

to look at 60 miles of corn and listen

to the wit and wisdom of Burt?

Just get off it, Vicky!

Will you just get off it?!

Oh, well, they call me

Sergeant Evil...

But I just played a part

They think

my eyes are tearing

But they don't know me

at all, yeah!

I'm sorry.

It's all right. It's fine.

It's just that I've driven so far

on the interstate-- 1500 miles--

- and since you won't drive, l--

- You know I get migraines

- when I drive for a long time.

- I know you do. I know, okay?

That's why I asked you to navigate

for me on these secondary roads,

and you said you would.

- Well?

- Where did we get off the interstate?

Back in Grand lsland.

The next town is...

Gatlin.

It's about 10 miles.

A wide space in the road.

Do you suppose we can go there

and get something to eat?

Or does the almighty schedule say

we have to go on until 2:00

like we did yesterday?

All right. You know what?

I have about had it with you.

As far as I am concerned,

we can call it quits right now.

We can just turn around and see

that lawyer you wanted to see

- because I have had it--

- Watch out!

No!

Burt!

A dog-- tell me it was a dog.

It was a boy.

It was a little boy.

He ran out of the corn.

He's dead.

He's dead, isn't he?

Oh, yeah.

Congratulations, tiger.

It's manslaughter!

That's what they call it!

You took your eyes off the road!

Well, don't you

wanna come see

so you can tell

all your NRA buddies

what you bagged

in Nebraska, huh?!

Don't you wanna come

and see?

What are you gonna do?!

What are you going to do?

Answer me!

Answer me, you--

Answer me when I talk to you!

Look at me!

Look at me!

How'd you handle it

over in Nam, huh?

How'd you handle it in the hooches?

What do you use?

Grease guns, right?

Grease guns and Zippos!

Settle down.

You're hysterical.

Oh, tell me. You crapped out.

Big Vietnam War hero, huh?

Purple Heart

and all that, huh?

Come on, John Wayne!

What are you gonna do?!

It's no time to go Section 8!

You ran that little boy down.

He was just a little boy,

you ran him down

and you can't--

You're going to jail.

- You're going to jail.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

- You're rabid.

Okay. It's taken me

all this time to figure it out.

You've got a terminal case

of rabies.

Shut up.

- What are you doing?

- Turning him over.

- No. You're not supposed to touch--

- I wanna see what I did.

- I'm sorry about this, fella.

- I don't wanna look.

His carotid artery and jugular vein

have been severed.

His throat's been cut.

Somebody scragged this kid--

bayonet, maybe a kitchen knife,

a cleaver-- I don't know.

It sure wasn't

a two-dollar buck.

You don't go to any more Kiwanis

meetings after your throat's been cut.

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