Foke song recipe

[Tater]

This came from old fourm;Fourway
(member)
12/03/03 04:33 PM
Folk song recipe



A folk singer friend of mine knows how much I like this song and emailed me this version that appears to describe the entire scotch making process.

John Barleycorn


There were three men came out of the west,
Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow:
John Barleycorn should die.
They ploughed, they sowed, they harrowed him in,
Throwed 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 heaven did fall,
Then little Sir John sprung up his head,
And soon amazed them all.
They set him stand till midsummer
Till he looked both pale and wan,
And little Sir John he growed a long beard
And so become 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 the sharp pitchforks
Who pricked him to the heart,
And the loader he served 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
On poor john barleycorn.
They hired men with the crab-tree sticks
To cut him skin from bone,
And they drown in water from the well
And lay him out on the cold stone floor

For three days time they left him there
Seeing sure that he had died,
Till little sir opened up his eye,
And poked his fingers out one side.
They bound him to a willow rack
And held him over the fire
And there bathed him in the blue peat reek
To ensure that he would expire.

They took him from the flame and smoke
Where his heart turned brown and red
And then they made a dreadful vow
John Barleycorn was dead.
The sewd him shut in a bag of cloth
Shut him in the dark and all alone
And the miller he served him worse than that,
For he ground him between two stones.

Now they took him broken, burnt and ground
And threw scalding water on his corpse
And they left him cool for many a day
Till he and bubbled stank and worse.
They poured him in to a copper pot
And they cooked him one time more
Then captured his spirit in a little brown jug
So that he might not rise no more

Now John Barleycorn is the strongest one
That ever was known by man
For he'll do more harm than any one
Just by the tippin' of a hand
He can turn a boy into a man
And a man into an ass
Your gold to silver he will change
And your silver into brass

Oh little Sir John is loved by all
He needs never buy a round
He will turn rich man to a pauper fool
And put a poor man in the ground
He will make you laugh or will make you cry
All your secrets tell and more.
He'll turn a matron into a giddy girl
And a maiden into a whore.

He will put the priest to sleep at night
Raise the nobleman in the morn
Will bring the soldier to the stocks
Where all men may do him scorn
Well some men eat meat and some eat bread
And some drink wine or ale
But little John needs not food nor drink
For beside him these others pale.

Here's little Sir John in a nut-brown bowl,
And he's brandy in a glass;
And little sir john in the nut-brown bowl
Proved the strongest 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 of barleycorn.




"Please don't drink and derive" -MADD Mathematicians Against Drunk Deriving

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