James Stevens
James Stevens (1892-1972) is best known for the stories about the mythical giant Paul Bunyan, logger and rebel, but he also wrote songs. In 1929 this tall story was written; slowly spreading. It was first recorded by The Weavers in September 1951, following Cisco Houston and Odetta in '54, and so on.
In 1968 Johnny Cash, without mentioning Stevens at all (!) wrote a paraphrase, stole the melody and parts of the theme, took it to the cotton fields and put it into the incredible lousy concept album "From Sea to Shining Sea". I leave you this one, too ... for fun; but please sing the original. And it was not the first time that man in black made a rip-off. Bold as brass, he even cut the original some years later.
as I sat down one evening in a timber town cafe
a six foot seven waitress these words to me 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 whiskey on it he’d eat a bale of hay
he never shaved his whiskers from off his horny hide
but he’d pound ‘em in with a hammer and 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 its level best
at one-hundred degrees below zero he buttoned up his vest
it froze clear 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 believe it Sir
They made him into ax blades to chop the Douglas fir
that’s how I lost my lover and to this cafe I come
and here I wait ‘til 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»
I left the field one evening my fingers so cold and sore
from fair to middlin' cotton • 300 pounds or more
Jim McCann was still pickin' straddle in the row
the sun began to sinkin' and the wind began to blow
he was bound to get 400 a draggin' a twelve foot sack
I hollered out "Jim come weight it!" but I only saw his back
so I went on home to supper and I gathered around my kin
I was thinkin' of Jim out there pickin' with winter settin' in
next morning the air was freezin' • the snow was nine feet deep
I jerked on my long red handles and I left my kids asleep
I got myself a shovel and went to where I seen Jim go
and commenced to a diggin' for him at the other end of his row
I found his body frozen and I took him in to thaw
I dragged in his sack and I weighed it and I added Jim's marks that I saw
the total was over 400 so he'd picked more than he'd bet
of fair to middlin' cotton • but Jim ain't thawed out yet
For the following CHORD section, fullscreen/horizontal mobile is recommended.
Chords in brackets may be omitted.
G D7 Am D7 G as I sat down one evening in a timber town cafe G7 C G D7 G a six foot seven waitress these words to me did say G D7 Am D7 G I see you are a logger and not a common bum G7 C G D7 G for no one but a logger stirs his coffee with his thumb
