I was listening to one of my all time fave albums/CD's today and thought I'd share.



John Barleycorn is an ancient folk song from Britain. The character "John Barleycorn" in the song is a personification of the important cereal crop barley, and of the alcoholic beverages made from it, beer and whisky.

There are more versions of this song than any other in the English language.

A version of the song is included in the Bannatyne Manuscript of 1568, and English broadside versions from the 17th century are common. Robert Burns published his own version in 1782, and modern versions abound.

Many versions of the song have been recorded; most notably by Traffic, whose album John Barleycorn Must Die is named after the song. Their version is listed below.

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 let him lie for a very long time
Till the rains from Heaven did fall,
And little Sir John sprung up his head
And so amazed them all.

They've let him stand till Midsummer's day,
Till 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 the 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 the sharp pitchforks,
Who pricked him through the heart
And the loader, he has served him worse than that,
For he's bound him to the cart.

They've wheeled him around and around a field,
Till they came unto a barn,
And there they made a solemn oath
On poor John Barleycorn

They've hired men with the crab-tree sticks,
To cut him skin from bone,
And the miller, he has served him worse than that,
For he's 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 can't hunt the fox
Nor so loudly to blow his horn,
And the tinker, he can't mend kettle nor pots
without a little barley corn

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