John Barleycorn
Recording by Fred Jordan on ‘A Shropshire Lad’ Veteran VTD148CD
Reference: Schofield D (2007) John Barleycorn: as sung by Fred Jordan Magazine of the English Folk Dance and Song Society Spring 2007 p9.
Now, there came three men out of Kent my boys
For to plough for wheat and rye
And they made a vow and a solemn vow
John Barleycorn must die.
So, they ploughed him deep in the furrow
And they sowed rye o’er his head
And these three men home rejoicing went,
John Barleycorn was dead.
But, the sun shone warm and the wind blew soft
And it rained in a day or so
John Barleycorn felt the wind and the rain
And soon began to grow
But the rye began to grow as well;
The rye grew slow but tall
But John Barleycorn he grew short and quick
And he proved them liars all
So, they hired men with sickles
To cut him off at the knee
And worst of all, John Barleycorn,
They served him barbarously.
For, they hired men with pikels,
To toss him on to a load,
And when they’d tossed John Barleycorn
They tied him down with cords.
Then, they hired men with thrashels
To beat him high and low
They came smick smack upon poor Jack's back
Till the flesh began to flow.
Then, they put him in to the kiln me boys,
Thinking to dry his bones
And when he came out, John Barleycorn,
They crushed him between two stones.
Then, they put him in to the mashing tub,
Thinking to burn his tail,
And when he came out they’d changed his name,
For they called him home-brewed ale.
So, put your wine in glasses,
Your cider in pewter cans
Put John Barleycorn in the old brown jug,
For he proved the strongest man.
To my ri-fol-airy, fol-the-diddle ay
To my ri-fol-airey oh
To my ri-fol-airy, fol-the-diddle ay
To my ri-fol-airey oh