As I stepped out one morning into a small café A forty year old waitress to me these words did say She said I see sir you're a logger and not just a common bum Cause nobody but a logger stirs his coffee with his thumb My lover was a logger there's none like him today If you'd pour a little whiskey upon it he'd eat a bale of hay My lover came to see me twas on one freezing day He threw his arms around me and broke three vertebrae I saw my lover leaving a trudging through the snow -going gaily homeward at forty-eight below The weather tried to freeze him it tried its level best At a thousand degrees below zero he buttoned up his vest It froze clear through to China it froze to the stars above At a million degrees below zero it froze my logger love And so I lost my logger and to this cafe I come And here I wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb
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