Well I'm the son of a son of a lumberjack or so I'm toldnthat the mountain's in my blood since I was less than one year oldnAnd they tell me he was kindnand they tell me he was strongnhe carried 60 pound saws all day long.nAt the end of the day he would singnget that guitar out and see how many smiles he could bringnthey'd say, I can't wait to hear him, I can't wait to sing along.nnI'm the son of a son of a lumberjackna man I've never metnand I guess that's how it goes when you smoke all those cigarettesnand he didn't wanna go so youngnno, no one ever wants to leave the ones they lovenwhen he quit it was too latenno, cancer never gives it always takesnsaying, I can't wait to kill himnI can't wait to take him home.nnI'm a son of a son of a lumberjacknoh yes indeednand when I'm stuck inside the city, how I long for evergreensnand I don't know why I have that inside,nbut I'm happy that he passed it on to menwhen I sit in the shade, I am thankful for everything he madenoh and I can't wait to meet him, no I can't wait to sing along.