Fairport Convention John Barleycorn Letras:
There were three men come out of the west,
Their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow,
John Barleycorn would die.
They've ploughed, they've sown, they've harrowed,
Thrown clods upon his head
Till these three men were satisfied
John Barleycorn was dead.

[Chorus]
there's beer all in the barrel
And brandy in the glass
But little Sir John, with his nut-brown bowl,
Proved the strongest man at last.

They've let him lie for a long long time
Till the rains from heaven did fall
And little Sir John sprang up his head
Aand so amazed them all.
They've let him stand till midsummer's day
And he looks both pale and wan
Then little Sir John's grown a long long beard
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And so become a man.

[Chorus]

They've hired men with the sharp-edged scythes
To cut him off at the knee
They've rolled him and tied him around the waist,
Treated him most barbarously.
They've hired men with the sharp-edged forks
To prick him to the heart
And the loader has served him worse than that
for he's bound him to the cart

So they've wheeled him around and around the field
till they've come unto a barn
And here they've kept their solemn word
Concerning Barleycorn.
They've hired men with the crabtree sticks
to split him skin from bone
And the miller has served him worse than that
For he's ground him between two stones.

[Chorus]

And the huntsman he can't hunt the fox
Nor loudly blow his horn
And the tinker he can't mend his pots
Without John Barleycorn
Letras: John Barleycorn Fairport Convention [final]