| Oh the buzzin' of the bees in the cigarette trees
|
| The soda water fountain where the lemonade springs
|
| And the bluebird sings in that Big Rock Candy Mountain
|
| On a summer day
|
| In the month of May
|
| A burly bum came ahiking
|
| Down a shady lane
|
| Through the 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 won’t need any money
|
| Oh the buzzin' of the bees in the cigarette trees
|
| The soda water fountain where the lemonade springs
|
| And the bluebird sings in that Big Rock Candy Mountain
|
| There’s a lake of gin
|
| We can both jump in
|
| And the handouts grow on bushes
|
| In the new-mown hay
|
| We can sleep all day
|
| And the bars all have free lunches
|
| Where the mail train stops
|
| And there ain’t no cops
|
| And the folks are tender-hearted
|
| Where you never change your socks
|
| And you never throw rocks
|
| And your hair is never parted
|
| Oh the buzzin' of the bees in the cigarette trees
|
| The soda water fountain where the lemonade springs
|
| And the bluebird sings in that Big Rock Candy Mountain
|
| Oh, a farmer and his son,
|
| They were on the run
|
| To the hay field they were bounding
|
| Said the bum to the son,
|
| «Why don’t you come
|
| To that big rock candy mountain?»
|
| So the very next day
|
| They hiked away,
|
| The mileposts they were counting
|
| But they never arrived
|
| At the lemonade tide
|
| On the big rock candy mountain
|
| Oh the buzzin' of the bees in the cigarette trees
|
| The soda water fountain where the lemonade springs
|
| And the bluebird sings in that Big Rock Candy Mountain |