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  • There is a light in the forest
    There is a face in the tree
    I'll pull you out of the chorus
    And the first one's always free
    You can never go a-hunting
    With just a flintlock and a hound
    You won't go home with a bunting
    If you blow a hundred round
    It takes much more than wild courage
    Or you'll hit the tattered clouds
    You must have just the right bullets
    And the first one's always free
    You must be careful in the forest
    Broken glass and rusty nails
    If you're 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
    They'll be your private little fishes
    And they'll never swim away
    I just want you to be happy
    That's my only little wish
    I'll fix your wagon and your musket
    And the spoon will have it's dish
    And I shudder at the thoughtof your
    Poor empty hunter's pouch
    So I'll keep the wind from your barrel
    And bless the roof of your house
  • There is a light in the forest
    There is a face in the tree
    I'll pull you out of the chorus
    And the first one's always free
    You can never go a-hunting
    With just a flintlock and a hound
    You won't go home with a bunting
    If you blow a hundred round
    It takes much more than wild courage
    Or you'll hit the tattered clouds
    You must have just the right bullets
    And the first one's always free
    You must be careful in the forest
    Broken glass and rusty nails
    If you're 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
    They'll be your private little fishes
    And they'll never swim away
    I just want you to be happy
    That's my only little wish
    I'll fix your wagon and your musket
    And the spoon will have it's dish
    And I shudder at the thoughtof your
    Poor empty hunter's pouch
    So I'll keep the wind from your barrel
    And bless the roof of your house