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Clark Jones
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John Barleycorn
There was three men come out of the west Their fortunes for to try And these three men made a solemn vow John Barleycorn should die
They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed him in Throw'd clods upon his head And these three men made a solemn vow John Barleycorn was dead
Then they let him lie for a very long time Till the rain from the heaven did fall Then little Sir John sprung up his head And soon amazed them all
They let him stand till midsummer Till he looked both pale and wan And little Sir John, he grow'd a long beard And so became a man
They hired men with the scythes so sharp To cut him off at the knee They rolled him and tied him by the waist And served him most barbarously
They hired men with sharp pitchforks 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 Who pricked him to the heart But the loader, he serve him worse than that For he bound him to the cart
They wheeled him round and round the field Till they came unto a barn And there they made a solemn vow Of poor John Barleycorn
They hired men with the crab-tree sticks To cut him skin from bone And the miller, he served him worse than that For he ground him between two stones
Here's little Sir John in a nut-brown bowl And brandy in a glass And little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl Proved the stronger man at last
And the huntsman, he can't hunt the fox Nor so loudly blow his horn And the tinker, he can't mend kettles or pots Without a little or Barleycorn
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