I'm out of my mind 
On John Barleycorn 
He's such a physician 
His fingers are warm 
Of my inhibitions 
I have been shorn 
And I'm gone, gone, gone 

All of my fear 
And most of my pain 
Ran hand in hand to 
Catch the last train 
From Waverley station 
And while I remain 
I'm still gone, gone, gone 

Ah whisky head 
You're mine to take to bed 
Ah whisky head 

Young women and men 
Please listen to me 
They tell you that drinking 
Can't set you free 
Well here I am standing 
And I disagree 
‘Cause I'm gone, gone, gone 

I'm out of my mind 
On John Barleycorn 
He's such a physician 
His fingers are warm 
Of my inhibitions 
I have been shorn 
And I'm gone, gone gone
Gone...gone…gone
Gone...gone…gone
Aaaaaaahhhhh