John Barley Corn ( Traffic John Barleycorn Must Die)

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 ve ploughed, they ve sown, they ve harrowed him in Threw clods upon his head And these three men made a solemn vow John Barleycorn was dead They ve 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 They ve let him stand til Midsummer s Day til he looked both pale and wan And little Sir John s grown a long long beard and so become a man They ve hired men with their scythes so sharp to cut him off at the knee They ve rolled him and tied him by the waist serving him most barbarously They ve hired men with their sharp pitchforks who ve pricked him to the heart And the loader he has served him worse than that For he s bound him to the car