Lord of the harvest, master of scythe
Open the fields and collect your prize
Woe to you, John Barleycorn
Rest in peace upon the millers stone
Oh, the harvest's got sharp teeth and it's dragging me under
Put down the sword, turn the millstone round
Oh, Demeter's embrace holds the sun to the land
Until Skadi brings her hammer down
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Until Skadi brings her hammer down (oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Until Skadi brings her hammer down
Reaper man, reaper man is coming to tear
Through your fields, to strike the corn down
Reaper man, reaper man, lay them all to rest
And let the land sleep at winter's behest
Oh, the harvest's got sharp teeth and it's dragging me under
Put down the sword, turn the millstone round
Oh, Demeter's embrace holds the sun to the land
Until Skadi brings her hammer down
I thought I heard the old man say
John Barleycorn will soon lie in his grave
One for the rook, one for the crow
One will wither and one will grow
Oh, the harvest's got sharp teeth and it's dragging me under
Put down the sword, turn the millstone round
Oh, Demeter's embrace holds the sun to the land
Until Skadi brings her hammer down
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Until Skadi brings her hammer down (oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Until Skadi brings her hammer down
