When you've got four months Before the snow comes down You rise every morning And head on out You chop and chop 'Til they hit the ground And echo through the forest There's nothing like the sound of Sharp axes, straight trees Some are for burnin' some are for beams Sharp axes, straight trees Out here it's the simple things If I asked any woodsman From here to Kalispell I wager every single one Would stand up and tell It's all just a matter of Trying not to freeze Up in the mountains You're gonna need Sharp axes, straight trees Some are for burnin' some are for beams Sharp axes, straight trees Out here it's the simple things Sharp axes, straight trees Some are for burnin' some are for beams Sharp axes, straight trees Out here it's the simple things Out here it's the simple things