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Harry Mcclintock
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The Big Rock Candy Mountain
One evening as the sun went down,
And the jungle fire was burning,
Down the track came a-hobo hikin',
And he said, 'Boys, I'm not turnin'.
I'm headed for a land, that's far away,
Beside 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's a farmers' trees are full of fruit,
And the barns are full of hay,
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And I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow,
And the rain don't fall, and 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 a-trickling down the rocks.
There ain't no short-handle shovels,
No axes, saws or picks,
And I'm bound to stay where the sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk that invented work,
In The Big 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 jim like, too,
You can paddle all around 'em in a big canoe,
In The Big Rock Candy Mountains.'
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