The frozen logger

As i set down one evening in a timber town cafe
a six foot-seven waitress, to me these words did say
"i see you are a logger and not a common bum
for no one but a logger stirs his coffee with his thumb
"my lover was a logger, there's none like him today
if you'd sprinkle whisky on it, he'd eat a bale of hay
he never shaved the whiskers from off his horny hide
but he'd pound 'em in with a hammer, then bite 'em off inside
"my lover came to see me one freezing winter day
he held me in a fond embrace that broke three vertebrae
he kissed me when we parted so hard it broke my jaw
and i could not speak to tell him he'd forgot his mackinaw
"i watched my logger lover going through the snow
a-sauntering gaily homeward at forty eight below
the weather tried to freeze him, it tried it's level best
at a hundred degrees below zero, he buttoned up his vest
"it froze clean down to china, it froze to the stars above
at one thousand degrees below zero it froze my logger love
they tried in vain to thaw him and if you'll believe me, sir
they made him into ax blades to chop the douglas fir
"that's how i lost my lover and to this caffay i come
and here i wait till someone stirs his coffee with his thumb
and then i tell my story of my love they could not thaw
who kissed me when we parted so hard he broke my jaw"