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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 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