Frozen Logger Ukulele chords by James Stevens

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As I sat down one evening, 'twas in a small cafe,
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A forty year old waitress, to me these words did say:
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I see that you're a logger, and not a common bum,
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For no one but a logger stirs coffee with his thumb.

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I once had a logger lover, there's none like him today.
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If you poured whiskey on it, he'd eat a bail of hay.
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He never shaved a whisker, off of his horny hide;
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He hammered in the bristles, and bit them off inside.

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My logger came to see me, 'twas on a winter's day;
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He held me in a fond embrace, that broke three vertebrae.
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He kissed me when we parted, so hard it broke my jaw;
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I couldn't speak to tell him, he forgot his mackinaw.

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I saw my logger lover, go stridin' through the snow,
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A-goin' gaily homeward, at forty-eight below.
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The weather tried to freeze him, it did its very best;
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At a hundred degrees below zero, he buttoned up his vest.

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It froze clear down to China, it froze to the stars above;
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At a thousand degrees below zero, it froze my logger love.
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They tried in vain to thaw him, and if you believe it, Sir,
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They made him into axe blades, to cut the Douglas Fir.

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And so I lost my logger, and to this cafe I've come,
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