It's Not 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 And the wind from the western mansion And the mist from the eastern lodge It was the night's long lying I'll find someone new And I'll not treat them like you do And when I have it in my fingers I hope I know I hold the fingers firm and fair I'll crack open streams Then I'll heat the water to clean And when I have it in my fingers I hope I know It was my own heart that led me there It was the way I saw wolves' tracks Left the lair and just went back It was my new baby stare