John Barleycorn
๐ต 1907 characters
โฑ๏ธ 4:05 duration
๐ ID: 31679329
๐ Lyrics
There were three men came to the west
Their fortunes for to try
And they all made a solemn vow
John Polycorn should die
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
Oh they ploughed, they sowed, they hallowed him in
To clods upon his head
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Polycorn was dead
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
And there he lay, in the good red earth
Till the rain from heaven did fall
Then little Sir John lifted up his head
And so amazed them all
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They let him grow till midsummer
When he looked both pale and wan
Then little Sir John grew a long white beard
And so became a man
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They hired three men with sharpened hooks
To cut him off at knee
They bound him around and around the ways
They served him barbarously
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They hired three men with sharpened spears
To prick him to the heart
They tossed him here, they tossed him there
They bound him to a cart
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
Oh they wheeled him around and around the field
Till they came unto a barn
And there they made a solemn vow
For poor John Polycorn
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They hired three men with crab-tree stakes
To cut him skin from bone
They tossed him to a miller
And he squashed him twixt two stones
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
Is John Polycorn in a nut-ground bowl?
Is Brandy in a can?
But little Sir John in a nut-ground bowl
Will prove the strongest man
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
For the huntsman he cannot hunt the fox
Nor loudly blow his horn
And the tinker cannot mend his kettle and his pots
Without John Polycorn
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
Their fortunes for to try
And they all made a solemn vow
John Polycorn should die
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
Oh they ploughed, they sowed, they hallowed him in
To clods upon his head
And these three men made a solemn vow
John Polycorn was dead
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
And there he lay, in the good red earth
Till the rain from heaven did fall
Then little Sir John lifted up his head
And so amazed them all
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They let him grow till midsummer
When he looked both pale and wan
Then little Sir John grew a long white beard
And so became a man
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They hired three men with sharpened hooks
To cut him off at knee
They bound him around and around the ways
They served him barbarously
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They hired three men with sharpened spears
To prick him to the heart
They tossed him here, they tossed him there
They bound him to a cart
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
Oh they wheeled him around and around the field
Till they came unto a barn
And there they made a solemn vow
For poor John Polycorn
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
They hired three men with crab-tree stakes
To cut him skin from bone
They tossed him to a miller
And he squashed him twixt two stones
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
Is John Polycorn in a nut-ground bowl?
Is Brandy in a can?
But little Sir John in a nut-ground bowl
Will prove the strongest man
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day
For the huntsman he cannot hunt the fox
Nor loudly blow his horn
And the tinker cannot mend his kettle and his pots
Without John Polycorn
To me ri fol low the diddle o' the day
Ri fol air o day