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John Barleycorn – Jethro Tull di Jethro Tull
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!
Well, they’ve ploughed, they’ve sown, the’ve harrowed him in.
Threw clouds upon his head.
Till these three men were satisfied.
John Barleycorn was dead.
They’ve let him lie for a long long time,
till the rains from heaven did fall.
And little sir John sprang up his head
They have hired men with the scythes so sharp.
Well, they’ve wheeled him ’round and ’round the field,
Well there’s beer all in the barrel
Now the huntsman, he can’t hunt the fox,
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