As I sat down one evening within a small cafe,A forty year old waitress to me these words did say"I see that you are a logger, and not just a common bum,'cause nobody but a logger stirs his coffee with is thumbMy lover was a logger, there's none like him todayIf you'd pour whiskey on it he could eat a bale of hayHe never shaved his whiskers from off of his horny hideHe'd just drive them in with a hammer and bite them off insideMy lover came to see me upon one freezing dayHe held me in his fond embrace which broke three vertebraeHe kissed me when we parted, so hard that he broke my jaw;I could not speak to tell him he'd forgot his mackinawI saw my lover leaving, sauntering through the snow,Going gaily homeward at forty-eight belowThe weather it tried to freeze him, it tried its level bestAt a hundred degrees below zero, he buttoned up his vestIt froze clean through to china, it froze to the stars aboveAt a thousand degrees below zero, it froze my logger loveThey tried in vain to thaw him, and would you believe me, sirThey made him into axeblades, to chop the douglas firAnd so I lost my lover, and to this cafe I come,And here I wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb
Are these lyrics correct?
Rate the public version or submit a correction for review.
🎤
LETROU FEATURE
Stage Mode
Large text, automatic scrolling and fullscreen for singing or practice.
