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Come on all you pretty women, with your hair a hanging down,
Open up your windows cuz the candyman’s in town.
Come on boys and gamble, roll those laughing bones,
Seven come eleven, boys I’ll take your money home.
Look out, look out the candyman,
Here he comes and he’s gone again.
Pretty lady ain’t got no friend till,
The candyman comes around again, around again.
I come from memphis where I learned to talk the jive,
When I get back to memphis be one less man alive.
Good morning mr. benson, I see you’re doing well,
If I had me a shotgun I’d blow you straight to hell.
Look out, look out the candyman,
Here he comes and he’s gone again.
Pretty lady ain’t got no friend till,
The candyman comes around again, around again.
Come on boys and wager if you have got the mind,
If you’ve got a dollar boys, lay it on the line,
Hand me my old guitar, pass the whiskey round,
Won’t you tell everybody you meet that the candyman’s in town.
Look out, look out the candyman,
Here he comes and he’s gone again.
Pretty lady ain’t got no friend till,
The candyman comes around again, around again.
Read more lyrics about / on: friend, gone, money, home
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Lyrics: Grateful Dead
