Jim has got a scarlet rag strung eround his hat;
Bill has lost his dollar-watch in the Devil's Vat;
Squint-eye Murphy bust the jam, jumpin' like a cat —
Sunday'll see us eatin' off a table.

Chorus :

Birl a log — birl a log — birl a log, boys;
Cram a log — ram a log — slam a log, boys;
There's heaps o' time for loafin' when the saws begin their noise,
An' the gals come troopin' down beside the mill.

Dan has bristles like a pig — Land, but he's a sight!
(Yer ony want ter tell him if yer diein' fer a fight);
The boss is cussin' awful, an' I reckon he is right,
If he wants ter see his Maggie Sunday mornin'.

Chorus : Birl a log — etc.

The tay has biled an hour an' the bread's forgot ter riz;
Jest swab it in molasses an' pertend it's what it is;
Fer what's the sense o' kickin' when the cook don't know his biz?
Oh, Ma will grease the griddle Sunday mornin'.

Chorus : Birl a log — etc.

Sandy's hoppin' lively, fer he's left a kid at home;
Davey's heart is achin' fer a pesky grammyphone;
Fer it ain't in human nater fer a man ter live alone
When the drive is lyin' idle Sunday mornin'.

Chorus : Birl a log — etc.

There's some has hoofs like 'osses when the log begins ter birl;
An' some is sort o' backwards when the jam begins ter curl;
But 'tis a mighty measly feller who ain't countin' on some girl
A-hankerin' fer the drive on Sunday mornin'.

Chorus : Birl a log — etc.

Jack is sparkin' Dora — an' hopes ter git her too —
Though Bob is in the runnin' (Say, chaw me off a chew);
But I'll tell yer confidential-like she don't approach my Sue —
Like as not yer'll see her early Sunday mornin'.

Oh, Susie Ann Maguire is the key-log o' the bunch;
She kin beat 'em all at dancin' or a-sarvin' of a lunch;
An' when it comes ter sparkin' — ! See here, I got a hunch
There'll be bloomin' little cookin' Sunday mornin'!

Chorus : Birl a log — etc.