The Big Rock Candy Mountains

One evening as the sun went down 

And the jungle fires was burning, 

Down the track came a hobo hiking. 

And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning, 

I'm headed for a land that's far away, 

Besides the crystal fountains, 

So come with me, we'll go and see 

The Big Rock Candy Mountains.” 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, 

There's a land that's fair and bright, 

Where the handouts grow on bushes, 

And you sleep out every night. 

Where the boxcars all are empty, 

And the sun shines every day 

On the birds and the bees, 

And the cigarette trees, 

And the lemonade springs 

Where the Bluebird sings 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains. 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains 

All the cops have wooden legs, 

And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth, 

And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs. 

There the farmers' trees are full of fruit, 

And the barns are full of hay, 

Oh I'm bound to go 

Where there ain't no snow, 

And the rain don't fall, 

And the winds don't blow 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains. 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains 

You never change your socks, 

And the little streams of alcohol 

Come a-trickling down the rocks. 

There ain’t no short handled shovels, 

No access, spades, or picks, 

And I’m bound to stay 

Where they sleep all day, 

Where they hung the Turk 

That invented work 

In The Bog Rock Candy Mountains. 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, 

All the jails are made of tin, 

And you can walk right out again 

As soon as you are in. 

Where the brakemen have to tip their hats, 

And the railroad bulls are blind, 

There’s a lake of stew, 

And a gin lake, too, 

You can paddle all around ‘em 

In a big canoe 

In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.

~ Anonymous