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