It Wasn't The Hunting

I'll go gather wood
What I do I'll do good
And when I have it in my fingers
I hope I know

It was not the hunting that led me there
It was the ice in my hair
When the wind from the western mansion
And the mist from the eastern lodge
It was [Am7]the night's long [Am]lying

I'll find someone new
And I won't tɾeat them [A]like [F]you [A7do
And when I have it in my [A]fingers
I hope I know
I hold the fingers firm and [Bm]fair

I'll crack open stɾeams
And I'll lead the water to [C7]clean
And when I have it in my [A]fingers
I hope I know

It was [Am7]my [A]own heart that led me there
It was [Am7]the way I saw wolves' tɾacks
Left the lair and [Bm]just went back
It was [Am7]my [A]new baby stare