Luyện nghe bài hát John Barleycorn

There three men come out of the west, their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow, John Barleycorn die
ploughed, they've sown, they've harrowed, thrown clods upon his head
Till these three men were John Barleycorn was dead
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There's beer all in the and brandy in the glass
But little Sir John, his nut-brown bowl, proved the strongest man at last
They've let him lie for a long long time till the rains heaven did fall
And little Sir John up his head and so amazed them all
They've let him stand till midsummer's day and he looks both and wan
Then little Sir John's a long long beard and so become a man
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They've hired men the sharp-edged scythes to cut him off at the knee
They've rolled him and tied him the waist, treated him most barbarously
They've men with the sharp-edged forks to prick him to the heart
And the loader has served him worse that for he's bound him to the cart
So wheeled him around and around the field till they've come unto a barn
And here they've kept their solemn word Barleycorn
They've hired men with the crabtree sticks to him skin from bone
And the miller has served him worse than that for he's ground him two stones
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And the he can't hunt the fox nor loudly blow his horn
And the he can't mend his pots without John Barleycorn