One evening, as the sun went down 
And the jungle fire 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 a-way 
Be-side the crystal fountains.  [bad word] with me, we’ll go and see 
The Big Rock Candy Mountain. 

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 ev'ry night, 
Where the boxcars all are empty, 
And the sun shines ev'ry 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 [bad word] teeth 
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs. 
The farmer's trees are full of [bad word] 
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 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 [bad word] a 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'm a going to stay, where you sleep all day 
Where they hung the jerk that invented work 
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.