The Logging Song

It's early in the morning
When the birds sing in the pines;
The sun peeks through the forest
Where the cold river climbs
The men are up at five o'clock
And to the trees at six
A hard day's work, a good night's sleep
Is all they ever mix
Way, hey, another brand-new day
On the wild and windy shores
Of old Super-i-ay

From North Bay to Fort William
On the rocky northern shore
The mills are filled with cedar pulp
And the boats are filled with ore
I worked in a logging camp
My daddy did before —
We're calloused hands and weathered skin
And iron to the core
Way, hey, another brand-new day
On the wild and windy shores
Of old Super-i-ay

Now the flies are thick and the men get sick
It's as cold as it can be
And nothing's unexpected
In the north coun-ter-y
When the summer ends and the winter comes
It's forty-two below;
We settle down in plywood shacks
And cover up with snow
Way, hey, another brand-new day
On the wild and windy shores
Of old Super-i-ay

Now, when I die I will have seen
The wonders of the sea
And I will have climbed the mountains
In the western coun-ter-y
But most of all I won't forget
The wild and wondrous thing
The falling of the timber
When it's early in the spring
Way, hey, another brand-new day
On the wild and windy shores
Of old Super-i-ay
Way, hey, another brand-new day
On the wild and windy shores
Of old Super-i-ay