As I strolled out 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
Because no one but a logger stirs his coffee with his thumb
My lover was a logger but not like none today
If you'd pour whiskey on it he'd eat a bale of hay
My lover came to see me upon one freezing day
He held me in a 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 that he forgot his mackinaw
I saw my logger leaving sauntering through the snow
Going bravely homeward at forty eight below
The weather it tried to freeze him It tried its very best
At a hundred degrees below zero he buttoned up his vest
It froze clear down to china It froze the stars above
At a gazillion degrees below zero It froze her 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 thum