This song is available on Intelli-Tunes' All Year.

John, John, Johnny Appleseed
A friend of the creatures
And the birds in the trees.

John, John, Johnny Appleseed
He was a barefoot friend of the pioneers,
John Chapman, Johnny, Johnny Appleseed.

He was born long ago in the northeast woods
September 26th.
And he grew up loving those apple trees
And the fruit he loved to pick.

He pulled up stakes and headed West
With a pouch full of apple seeds
And he planted them for the pioneers
And gave them apple trees.

John, John, Johnny Appleseed
A friend of the creatures
And the birds in the trees.
John, John, Johnny Appleseed
He was a barefoot friend of the pioneers,
John Chapman, Johnny, Johnny Appleseed.

He lived in the woods like the Indians
And was friends to all he'd meet.
With a pot on his head, he didn't tote a gun
He lived a life he said was sweet.

Now through the years
When the blossoms bloom,
And we smell that apple pie
Apple cider, apple butter, making applesauce
Thanks to the man from days gone by!

John, John, Johnny Appleseed
A friend of the creatures
And the birds in the trees.
John, John, Johnny Appleseed

He was a barefoot friend of the pioneers,
John Chapman, Johnny, Johnny Appleseed.
John Chapman, Johnny, Johnny Appleseed.

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Many thanks to Ron Brown for permission to display these lyrics.
© Ron Brown. All rights reserved. Used with permission. 

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