Harvest Steeleye Span

The neck, the neck, the neck

Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd
Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap'd
Come, boys, come
And we'll roar out our Harvest Home

We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again
Why should the blockhead have one in ten?
One in ten

For prating so long like a book learned sot
Till pudding and dumplin burn to the pot
Burn to the pot
We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand
Then Ho for the times of Old England
Old England

Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reap'd
Your barns will be full and your hovеls heaped
The nеck, the neck, the neck

Hard faced dames in hoods make haste
To cram their lapbags with the barley waste
Before the rout the leveret darts
Bawled at by boys in blundering carts