Logging Camp Christmas

verse 1 Oh the snow falls soft round the old cabin door, The baby lies sleeping so still; And she imagines she hears the faint ring of an axe ‘Way back in the Pontiac hills. Well, the days grind by just like a log in a jam, In the window the candle burns low; It’s been weeks since he left to head north to the camps- There’ll be months before spring brings him home. Chorus And in the shanty they’re dancin’ on a hard-packed dirt floor While the fiddler scrapes out them old tunes one time more; And he’s wond-rin’ why he’s there far from fam’ly and friends In a logging camp Christmas again. And wasn’t it this time last year that he swore That he wouldn’t spend Christmas in the log camps no more? But there’s too little choice when the livin’s this poor; It’s the only way a man can survive. verse 2 Well, the wood’s gettin’ low by the fire tonight And she’ll up before dawn to cut more But it seems only right to let it burn bright ‘cause it’s Christmas and her heart’s feelin’ sore. Well, it isn’t the work that she minds when he’s gone And the neighbours help out when they can, It’s the time slipping by from life that’s too young To be living this far from her man. Chorus In the shanty they’re dancin’ on a hard-packed dirt floor While the fiddler scrapes out them old tunes one time more; And he’s wond-rin’ why he’s there far from fam’ly and friends In a logging camp Christmas again. And wasn’t it this time last year that he swore That he wouldn’t spend Christmas in the log camps no more? But there’s too little choice when the livin’s this poor; It’s the only way a man can survive. Instrument Break Chorus In the shanty they’re dancin’ on a hard-packed dirt floor While the fiddler scrapes out them old tunes one time more; And he’s wond-rin’ why he’s there far from fam’ly and friends In a logging camp Christmas again. And wasn’t it this time last year that he swore That he wouldn’t spend Christmas in the log camps no more? But there’s too little choice when the livin’s this poor; It’s the only way a man can survive. Outro Oh the snow falls soft round the old cabin door, The baby lies sleeping so still; And she imagines she hears the faint ring of an axe ‘Way back in the Pontiac hills.