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The Frozen Waitress
lyrics © 2005 by Dr. H. Paul Shuch
sung to the tune of "The Frozen Logger,"
Copyright © 1951 by James Stevens

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At work last Sunday morning
At the Mackinaw Cafe
A strong and rugged logger
To me these words did say:

"I see that you're a waitress,
And not just a common slob.
To a dedicated waitress
It's an artform, not a job.

"My mother was a waitress
When I was just a lad.
She started working when we
Were abandoned by my dad.

"The work was always thankless,
The hours they were long.
And yet Mom greeted each day
With a smile and with a song.

"Along with speedy service,
She gave out sage advice.
Her customers all called her 'Ma';
She called them all 'my guys'.

"I lost her in the blizard
Of nineteen eighty-five
In the avalanche that hit that bar
Where no one did survive.

"It snowed so hard that morning,
I begged her not to go.
She said, 'then who will serve my guys
Their morning cup of joe?'

"She kissed me when we parted,
Quite lightly on the lips,
And said, 'I'm off to work now.'
I replied, 'Make lots of tips.'

"She walked to work as always.
They dug her out that night,
A frozen cup in her left hand,
Creamola in the right.

"I've trekked this whole world over,
In hopes I'd some day see
A waitress sweet as Mom was.
Now I have. Please marry me."

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this page last updated 14 June 2007
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