If I Sang about a saddle with a la**o and a gun,
You'd thing about a cowboy beneath the prairie sun
But I sing about a pine tree with a bucksaw and an axe
I sing about a big man, The Canadian Lumberjack.
Oh Hey! To the happy workin' bushman, Of Canada
He's a lumberjack
Oh Hey! To the master of the bushland
He's born to live, By the big bold axe
He's born to live, By the big bold axe
With a whopper giant breakfast, of pancakes, beans and mush
And then you'll hear him whistle all mornin' through the bush
And when it comes to hard work there's just no turnin' back
That son of a gun ironman, The Canadian Lumberjack
Oh Hey! To the happy workin' bushman, Of Canada
He's a lumberjack
Oh Hey! To the master of the bushland
He's born to live, By the big bold axe
He's born to live, By the big bold axe
And when his day is over, he'll talk with many chums
He'll sing about the sweetheart, He'll wed when springtime comes