The Timberbeast’s Lament

I'm up the raft to the lumber camp
With a sick and aching head;
I've blowed another winter's stake,
And got the jims instead

It seems I'll never learn the truth
That's written plain as day,
The more they try to welcome you
The more they make it pay

And it's "blanket-stiff" and "jungle-hound,"
And "pitch him out the door,"
"Howdy, Jack, old-timer,"
When you've got the price for more.

Oh, tonight the boat is rocky,
And I ain't got a bunk
Not a rare of cheering likker,
Just a turkey full of junk.

And it's all of my possessions,
Is what I can carry 'round,
I've blowed the rest on skid-roads,
Of a hundred gyppo towns.

And it's "lumberjack" and "timber-beast,"
And "Give these bums a ride,"
"Have one on the house, old boy,"
When you're stepping with the tide.

And the chokers will be heavy,
Just as heavy, just as cold,
When the hooker gives the high-ball,
And we start to dig for gold.

And I'll curse the skid-road up and down,
With its blatant, drunken tune,
But then, of course, I'll up and make
Another trip next June.

And it's "blanket-stiff" and "jungle-hound,"
And "pitch him out the door,"
"Howdy, Jack, old-timer,"
When you've got the price for more.