CISCO HOUSTON - THE FROZEN LOGGER LYRICS - stirs his coffee with his thumb

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stirs his coffee with his thumb - I Lost My Logger song and lyrics from KIDiddles


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 . Feb 05, 2006 · no one but a logger stirs his coffee with his thumb In the comments of my last post, Nyana expressed some concern about the hunky fireman's macho attitude regarding his scalding hot coffee. Well, dear, that was actually a feeble attempt at humour on my part.

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. Lyrics: James Stevens Music: Adapted from "When I Was Young and Foolish" Appears on: LP Hard Travelin'; CD The Folkways Years; As I sat down one evening, was in a small café A forty year old waitress to me these words did say I see you that you are a logger and not just a common bum 'Cause nobody but a logger stirs his coffee with his thumb My lover he was a logger, there's none like him.

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. Stirs coffee with his thumb. I had a logger lover; There's none like him today. If you poured whiskey on it, He'd eat a bale of hay. He never shaved a whisker From off of his horny hide; He hammered in the bristles, And chewed them off inside. My logger came to see me, One dreary winter's day; He held me in a fond embrace That broke six vertebrae.

Jan 26, 2010 · stirs his (B7) coffee with his (E) thumb My lover was a (B7) logger There's none like him to (E) day For nobody but a (A) logger stirs his (B7) coffee with his (E) thumb. Category. Jul 02, 2015 · His thumb is the cleanest of all his digits. Or, it's the last thing remaining on that hand from all the chainsaw accidents. Which hand does he wipe with, compared to stirring his coffee?

'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;10/10(1).