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