Utah Phillips - The Lumberjack’s Prayer lyrics
[Utah Phillips - The Lumberjack’s Prayer lyrics]
I pray, dear Lord, for Jesus' sake
Give us this day a T-bone steak
Hallowed be thy holy name
But don't forget to send the same
Oh hear my humble cry, O Lord
And send us down some decent board
Brown gravy with some German fried
With sliced tomatoes on the side
Observe me on my bended legs -
I'm asking you for ham and eggs
And if thou havest custard pies
I'd like, dear Lord, the largest size
O hear my humble cry, almighty host
I quitе forgot the quail on toast
O let your kindly heart bе stirred
And stuff some oysters in that bird
Dear Lord, we know thy holy wish
On Friday we must have a fish
Our flesh is weak and spirit's stale
You'd better make that fish a whale
O hear me Lord, remove these "dogs"
These sausages of powdered logs
The bull-beef hash and bearded snouts
Take them to hell, or thereabouts
With alum bread and pressed beef butts
Dear Lord, you've damn near ruined my guts
Your white-wash milk and Oleorine
I'd wish to Christ I'd never seen
O hear me Lord, I'm praying still -
But if you won't, our Union will
Put porkchops on the bill of fare
And starve no workers anywhere
Give us this day a T-bone steak
Hallowed be thy holy name
But don't forget to send the same
Oh hear my humble cry, O Lord
And send us down some decent board
Brown gravy with some German fried
With sliced tomatoes on the side
Observe me on my bended legs -
I'm asking you for ham and eggs
And if thou havest custard pies
I'd like, dear Lord, the largest size
O hear my humble cry, almighty host
I quitе forgot the quail on toast
O let your kindly heart bе stirred
And stuff some oysters in that bird
Dear Lord, we know thy holy wish
On Friday we must have a fish
Our flesh is weak and spirit's stale
You'd better make that fish a whale
O hear me Lord, remove these "dogs"
These sausages of powdered logs
The bull-beef hash and bearded snouts
Take them to hell, or thereabouts
With alum bread and pressed beef butts
Dear Lord, you've damn near ruined my guts
Your white-wash milk and Oleorine
I'd wish to Christ I'd never seen
O hear me Lord, I'm praying still -
But if you won't, our Union will
Put porkchops on the bill of fare
And starve no workers anywhere