| Song | The Frozen Logger |
| Artist | Johnny Cash |
| Album | Bootleg, Volume 2: From Memphis To Hollywood |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 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 | |
| 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. | |
| 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. | |
| They tried in vain to thaw him, and would you believe me, sir | |
| They made him into axeblades, to chop the Douglas fir. | |
| And so I lost my lover, and to this cafe I come, | |
| And here I wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb. |
| 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 | |
| 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. | |
| 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 fortyeight 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. | |
| They tried in vain to thaw him, and would you believe me, sir | |
| They made him into axeblades, to chop the Douglas fir. | |
| And so I lost my lover, and to this cafe I come, | |
| And here I wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb. |
| 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 | |
| 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. | |
| 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 fortyeight 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. | |
| They tried in vain to thaw him, and would you believe me, sir | |
| They made him into axeblades, to chop the Douglas fir. | |
| And so I lost my lover, and to this cafe I come, | |
| And here I wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb. |