John barleycorn

Let me tell a tale of my father's kin For his blood runs through my veins No man's been born that could best John Barleycorn For he's suffered many pains He's suffered many pains We've buried him well...

There were three men came out of the West Their fortunes for to try And these three men made a solemn vow John Barleycorn must die. They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in Threw clods all upon...

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...