There is a light in the forest Theres a face in the tree Ill pull you out of the chorus And the first ones always free You can never go ahunting With just a flintlock and a hound You wont go home with a bunting If you blow a hundred rounds It takes much more than wild courage Or youll hit the tattered clouds You must have just the right bullets And the first ones always free You must be careful in the forest Broken glass and rusty nails If youre to bring back something for us I have bullets for sale Why be a fool when you can chase away Your blind and your gloom? I have blessed each one of these bullets And they shine just like a spoon To have sixty silver wishes Is a small price to pay Theyll be your private little fishes And theyll never swim away I just want you to be happy Thats my only little wish Ill fix your wagon and your musket And the spoon will have its dish And I shudder at the thought Of your poor empty hunters pouch So Ill keep the wind from your barrel And bless the roof of your house
bullet, spoon, forest, bunting, flintlock