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There were three men came out of the west
Their fortunes for to try
These three men made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn must die
They've plowed, they've sewn, they've harrowed him in
Threw clods upon his head
Till these three men were satisfied
John Barleycorn was dead

They let him lie for a long, long time
Till the rains from Heaven did fall
When Sir John sprang his head
Sir John amazed them all
They made him lie till midsummer's day
Till he looked both pale and wane
Then Sir John grew a long, long beard
And Sir John became a man

They hired men with the scythes so sharp
To cut hm off at the knee
They rolled and tied him round the waist
Serving him most barbarously
They hired men with the sharp pitchforks
To prick him to the heart
But the loader served him worse than that
For he's bound poor John to the cart

They've wheeled him round and round the field
Till they came into a barn
And there they made their solemn oath:
John Barleycorn must die
They hired men with the crab tree sticks
To split him skin from bone
But the miller served him worse than that
For he ground John between two stones

Beer in the barrel whiskey in the glass
But John, with his nut brown glow
Proved the strongest man at last
John Barleycorn would not die
Now the huntsmen can't hunt the fox
Nor loudly blow his horn
Tinker can't mend fence nor pots
Without good 'ol John Barleycorn

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