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There were three men came out of the west
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Their fortunes for to try
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And these three men made a solemn vow
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John Barleycorn must die
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They've plowed, they've sown, the've harrowed him in
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Threw clods upon his head
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And these three men were satisfied
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John Barleycorn was dead
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They let him lie for a very long time
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Till the rains from heaven did fall
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And little Sir John sprung up his head
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And so amazed them all
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They let him stand 'til mid summer's day
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'til he looked both pale and worn
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And little Sir John's grown a long, long beard
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And so become a man
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They've hired men with scythes so sharp
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To cut him off at the knee
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They rolled him and tied him by the waist
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Serving him most barbarously
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They've hired men with sharp pitch forks
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Who pricked him to the heart...
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And the loader he has served him worse than that
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For he's bound him to the cart
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They've wheeled him around and around in the field
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'til they came onto a barn
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And there they made a solemn oath
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On poor John Barleycorn
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They've hired men with the crab tree sticks
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to cut him skin from bone
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And the miller he has served him worse than that
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For he's ground him between two stones
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And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl
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And he's brandy in the glass
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And little Sir John and the nut brown bowl
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Proved the strongest man at last
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The huntsman, he can't hunt the fox
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Nor so loudly blow his horn
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And the Tinker he can't mend kettle nor pots
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Without a little Barlycorn