The Lombard steam logging machine
Is powered by fire and by steam;
She puffs through her stack
And she lays her own track,
The Lombard steam logging machine.
A man sits in front of the smokebox,
A big steering wheel in his lap;
He steers the front skiis
As she glides through the trees,
The Lombard steam logging machine.
The engineer sits by the boiler
And keeps putting coal on the fire;
He pulls on the throttle
And sips from his bottle
On the Lombard steam logging machine.
The boiler is kept full of water
From a saddle tank sitting on top;
If the boiler runs dry
It will blow to the sky,
The Lombard steam logging machine.
The Lombard is queen of the forest,
She travels where others get stuck;
She goes through the bogs
As she hauls out the logs,
The Lombard steam logging machine.
So lumberjacks stay out of trouble,
Keep off of the log hauling tracks;
You'll jump from your boots
When you hear her loud toots,
The Lombard steam logging machine.
Tune
Use at your own risk. I can't guarantee that nobody has beat me to this tune.
do mi- mi- mi- re- mi- re- do-o
do re- re- re- re- do- re- mi-i
mi fa- fa- fa- fa-
mi- re- mi- mi- mi- mi-
mi mi- re- do- re- fa- re- do-o