Lack Of Limits
Lack Of Limits - John Barleycorn lyrics
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There were thin men came out of the west They came their fortunes for to try They had made a solemn oath, John Barleycorn must die They ploughed him 3 furrows deep Laid clods upon his head And they had made a solemn oath, Sir John shall be dead Well then came a shower of rain, Which from the heavy clouds did fall And little Sir John sprung up his head, He so amazed them all And little Sir John had grown a long long beard He so became a man With a knife they cut him off his head And dead was John Barleycorn They wheeled him here, They wheeled him there They wheeled him into a barn And little Sir John he laughed with them Loud and proud they sang: "Hey, hey, it`s a lucky day, John Barleycorn is dead.