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John Barleycorn
by Stone Breath

O there were three men come out of the West, their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow: John Barleycorn must die
They plowed, they sowed, they hoed him in, threw clods upon his head
And these three men made a solemn vow: John Barleycorn was dead
They let him lie for a very long time until the rain from heaven did fall
But little Sir John sprung up his head and so amazed them all
They let him stand 'til midsummer's day, until he looked so pale and wan
But little Sir John he grew a long beard and so became a man
They hired men with scythes so sharp to cut him off at the knee
They rolled him up, tied him around the waist and served him barbarously
They hired men with strong pitchforks to pierce him through the heart
But the loader he served him worst than that for he bound him to the cart
They pulled him around and around in the fields 'til they came into the barn
Then these three men made a solemn vow on poor John Barleycorn
They hired men with crabtree sticks to slice him skin from bones,
but the miller served him worst of all for he ground him between two stones
It's a little Sir John in a nut brown bowl and a brandy in the glass
But little Sir John in the nut brown bowl proved the strongest man at last
For the hunter he can't hunt the fox nor loudly blow his horn
And the tinker he can't mend his pots without a little Sir Barleycorn

Contributed by Makayla A. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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