Op in jûn yn it skimertsjuster
By it kampfjoer nêst de akkelei
Kaam fan bûten in swabber swalkjen
Hy sei makkers, ik gean hjir wei
Ik reizgje nei in lân hiel fier fuort
Oare kant de wetterweagen
Kom oars mar mei, dan geane wy nei
Snobbegat Lege Geaën

Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën
Leit rûnom it lân fan eare en rom
Dêr leit de mazzel foar ’t gripen
En moarns kearst dy nochris om
It reizgjen dêr is om ’e nocht
De sinne skynt nei elke bocht
En oan de wetterkanten
Stean sûkerbôleplanten
De limonade sproeit
Wêr’t it pompebledsje groeit
Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën

Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën
Hat de marsjesee papieren kaaien
En hawwe hynders rubber tosken
En lizze hinnen sêftseane aaien
De hôfbeammen sitte fol fan fruchten
En de fekken grôtfol hea
O ik wol nei dat gea
Sûnder trammelant
Sûnder eangst en sûnder pine
En sûnder hongerdea
Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën

Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën
Kinst drommelse maklik lizzen gean
En lytse streamen sterke drank
Buorrelje op út it stobbefean
De bazen dy moatte dy dêr jookje
En de fjildwachters binne sjende blyn
Op de Snobbegatter petten
Driuwe jeneverfetten
Rjocht dyn kant op mei de
Revolúsjewyn
Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën

Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën
Is gjin finzenis foar in anargist
Kinst der daliks wer útrinne
Sa gau ast binnen bist
Dêr gjin opleine twangarbeid
Mar lykberjochtiging
Ik bliuw yn dit lekkerlân
Dêr’t it libben losser is
Dêr’t ús ferlosser is
Ferlost fan it slavebân
Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën

Ik sjoch jim fêst de kommende hjerst
Yn Snobbegat Lege Geaën

 

Hard Rock Candy Mountain  LINK

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 away
Besides 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,
Where 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 farmers’ 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 the little streams of alcohol
Come 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’ma goin’ to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the Turk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains

I’ll see you all this coming Fall
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains”