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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