John Barleycorn — текст песни (Steve Winwood)

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

Theyve plowed, theyve sown, theyve harrowed him in

Threw clods upon his head

And these three men made a solemn vow

John barleycorn was dead



Theyve let him lie for a very long time, til the rains from heaven did fall

And little sir john sprung up his head and so amazed them all

Theyve let him stand til midsummers day til he looked both pale and wan

And little sir johns grown a long long beard and so become a man

Theyve hired men with their scythes so sharp to cut him off at the knee

Theyve rolled him and tied him by the way, serving him most barbarously

Theyve hired men with their sharp pitchforks whove pricked him to the heart

And the loader he has served him worse than that

For hes bound him to the cart



Theyve wheeled him around and around a field til they came onto a pond

And there they made a solemn oath on poor john barleycorn

Theyve hired men with their crabtree sticks to cut him skin from bone

And the miller he has served him worse than that

For hes ground him between two stones



And little sir john and the nut brown bowl and his brandy in the glass

And little sir john and the nut brown bowl proved the strongest man at last

The huntsman he cant hunt the fox nor so loudly to blow his horn

And the tinker he cant mend kettle or pots without a little barleycorn