| lyric | 1. As I sat down one evening
Within a small café,
A forty yearold witress
To me these words did say:
2. I see, you are a logger
And not a common bum,
For no one but a logger
Stirs his coffee with his thumb.
3. My lover was a logger,
There’s noe like him today;
If you poured whisky on it,
He’d eat a bale of hay.
4. He never shaved the whiskers
From off his horny hiede,
But he drove them in with a hammer
And bit ’em off inside.
5. My logger came to see me
Upon one freezing day,
He held me in a fond embrace
That broke three vertebrae.
6. He kissed me when we parted,
So hard he broke my jaw;
I could not speak to tell him
He’d forgot his mackinaw.
7. I saw my logger lover
Walking through the snow,
A-going gaily homeward
At forty-eight below.
8. The weather treid to freeze him,
It tried its level best.
At one hundred degresse below zero
He buttoned up his vest.
9. It frowe clean through to China,
It froze to the stars above,
At one thousand degrees below zero
It frozw my logger ove.
10. THey tried in vain to thaw him,
And if you’ll believe me, sir,
They made him into axe-blades
To chop the Douglas fir.
11. And so I lost my lover,
And to this café I come,
And here I wait till someone
Stirs his coffee with his thumb. |