There is a light in the forest 
There is a face in the tree 
I'll pull you out of the [bad word] 
And the first one's always free 

You can never go hunting 
With just a flintlock and a hound 
You won't go home with a bunting 
If you blow a hundred rounds 

It takes much more than wild courage 
Or you'll hit just 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 [bad word] 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 wish 
I'll fix your wagon and your musket 
And the spoon will have his dish 

And I shudder at the thought of your 
Poor empty hunter's pouch 
So I'll keep the wind from your barrel 
And bless the roof of your house