On a summer’s day, in the month of May A burly bum came hiking Down a shady lane with a sugar cane He was looking for his liking As he strolled along, he sang a song Of the land of milk and honey Where a bum can stay for many a day And he don’t need any money Oh the... Buzzin’ of the bees in the cigarette trees The soda-water fountains Where the lemonade springs, and the blue bird sings In the Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains You never wash your socks And little streams of alcohol Come trickling down the rocks There’s a lake of stew and whisky too And you paddle around in a big canoe Where they hung the jerk who invented work In the Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains The cops have wooden legs The bulldogs all have rubber teeth And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs The farmers’ trees are full of fruit, the barns are full of hay I want to go where there ain’t no snow Where the rain don’t fall and the wind don’t blow In the Big Rock Candy Mountains