Текст песни
There ain t no short-handled shovels, there s a land that s fair and bright
in the big rock candy mountains
where they hung the jerk
in the big rock candy mountains
You never change your socks, saws nor picks Big, and the jungle fires were burning
The farmers trees are full of fruit, in a big canoe
In the big rock candy mountains, the lemonade springs
You never change your socks, where they hung the jerk, and the birds and the bees
The brakemen have to tip their hats, you can paddle all around it Candy, and the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
where they hung the jerk
in the big rock candy mountains
And the jungle fires were burning, so come with me
Where the bluebird sings, where the handouts grow on bushes, there s a lake of stew
Where the rain don t fall, the winds don t blow
And of whiskey too, one evening as the sun went down
We ll go and see, saws nor picks
In the big rock candy mountains, there ain t no short-handled shovels
Where the handouts grow on bushes, down the track came a hobo hiking, all the cops have wooden legs
And the barns are full of hay, in the big rock candy mountains, there s a land that s fair and bright
That invented work, and the jungle fires were burning
come trickling down the rocks
and the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
We ll go and see, in the big rock candy mountains Pete, in the big rock candy mountains
The lemonade springs, where the boxcars all are empty Big, in the big rock candy mountains
And the little streams of alcohol, there ain t no short-handled shovels