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Big Cock Candy Mountain

In my non-sex-work performing life, I have frequently appropriated and rewritten Broadway show tunes and other well-known lyrics for satirical purposes. It’s an odd way to relax, but I’m good at it and, well, there you go. So after a recent call–a particularly rapid and exhausting review of Physically Impossible Sex Acts, Parts 2, 5, and 7 (in 15 minutes)–I was not surprised to have the following emerge:

(sung to the tune of Big Rock Candy Mountains, which you can hear versions of all over, in O Brother, Where Art Thou, and also in kids’ radio programming sometimes)

Big Cock Candy Mountains

In the Big Cock Candy Mountains there’s a land that’s fair and bright
Where the girls all shave their bushes and you eat out every night
Where the glory holes are open and the sun shines every day
On the birds and the bees and the testicle trees
Where the urine streams, where the dildo reams
In the Big Cock Candy Mountains

In the Big Cock Candy Mountains all the cocks are hard all day
And the dogs are always willing and the boys all like to play
And every drawer is brimming with piles of lingerie.
Oh, I’m bound to come, gonna get me some
where the beds will shake and vibrators hum
In the Big Cock Candy Mountains

In the Big Cock Candy Mountains you never change the sheets
And the little streams of pussy juice leave white spots on the seats.
The choirboys go commando and the priests don’t seem to mind.
There’s a lake of poo and other goo
If you step in that, I’ll lick your shoe
In the Big Cock Candy Mountains

In the Big Cock Candy Mountains the floors are always clean
So if that horny mood should hit, you can drop and start your scene
The men are long and tall here, ev’ry girl a sex machine
I’m a-gonna to stay where you fuck all day
Where the cream and honey just flow that way
In the Big Cock Candy Mountains

(tip of the battered hat to Harry McClintock)