We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
On a summer day in the month of May a burly bum came hiking Down a shady lane through the sugar cane, he was looking for his liking. As he roamed 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
Refrain: Oh the buzzin' of the bees in the cigarette trees near the soda water fountain, At the lemonade springs where the bluebird sings on the 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, 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 the big rock candy mountains?" 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 Mountains
One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fires were burning, Down the track came a hobo hiking, and he said "Boys, I'm not turning." "I'm heading 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, 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, 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 The farmer's trees are full of fruit 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, the wind don't blow In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, you never change your socks And little streams of alcohol come 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, And 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-goin' to stay where you sleep all day Where they hung the jerk that invented work In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
This song was written and performed by Harry "Haywire Mac" McClintock in the 1920s. The only other hobo/bum/homeless song that competes with this one is Roger Miller's country version of King of the Road - not as good as this song, though.
Thanks for posting a long version of these lyrics. I'd always pegged it as the inspiration ("Muses? We don't need no steenkeeng Muses!") for this Pynchon parody in 'Gravity's Rainbow'...
"In 3/4 time and sh*t-kicking style, he is singing:
The Doper's Dream
Last night I dreamed I was plugged right in
To a bubblin' hookah so high,
When all of a sudden some Arab jinni
Jump up just a-winkin' his eye.
'I'm here to obey all your wishes,' he told me,
As for words I was trying to grope.
'Good buddy,' I cried, 'you could surely oblige me
By turnin' me on to some dope! '
With a bigfat smile he took ahold of my hand,
And we flew down the sky in a flash,
And the first thing I saw in the land where he took me
Was a whole solid mountain of hash!
All the trees was a-bloomin' with pink 'n' purple pills,
Whur the Romilar River flowed by,
To the magic mushrooms as wild as a rainbow,
So pretty I wanted to cry."
Etc. for another 16 lines. It's at V368.41, B429.30, P374.37-38 if you're keeping 'score' at home. I gave up amateur psychopharmocology 25 years ago, but always like making a literary connection. I recall the Ives version.
Better than 'Holly Jolly Christmas' fur durn sure.
In one of my favorite movies, "Oh brother, where art thou?" One of the best American movies ever made, including all the traditional music, which is just wonderful. I guess folks with no sense of humor or history find it politically incorrect.