The Frozen Logger

The Frozen Logger - The Weavers

Written by：Gilbert/Hays/Hellerman/Seeger

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 thumb

My lover was a logger there's none like him today

If you'd pour whiskey on it he could eat a bale of hay

Well he never shaved his whiskers from off of his horny hide

He'd just drive them in with a hammer and bite them off inside

My lover came to see me upon one freezing day

He held me in his fond embrace which broke three vertebrae

Well he kissed me when we parted so hard that he broke my jaw

I could not speak to tell him he'd forgot his mackinaw

I saw my lover leaving sauntering through the snow

Going gaily homeward at forty eight below

The weather it tried to freeze him it tried its level best

At a hundred degrees below zero he buttoned up his vest

It froze clean through to China it froze to the stars above

At a thousand degrees below zero it froze my logger love

And so I lost my lover and to this cafe I come

And here I wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb