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
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
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
Where the rain don't fall
The wind 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 trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railroad bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey, too
You can paddle all around 'em
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
The jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again,
As soon as you are in
There ain't no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws or picks,
I'ma goin' to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the Turk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
- Harry McClintock (1895, recorded 1928, Roud Folk Song Index number 6696)
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 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 Where the rain don't fall The wind 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 trickling down the rocks The brakemen have to tip their hats And the railroad bulls are blind There's a lake of stew And of whiskey, too You can paddle all around 'em In a big canoe In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, The jails are made of tin And you can walk right out again, As soon as you are in There ain't no short-handled shovels, No axes, saws or picks, I'ma goin' to stay Where you sleep all day, Where they hung the Turk That invented work In the Big Rock Candy Mountains