hunters come to kill the bear,
do you see her hiding there?
the dogs are barking down below
the guns are aimed to bring her low
the air is thick with scents and smells
of spit and beer
of sweat and fear
the bear is casting out some spells,
one reaches us over the whistling breeze
we find our way through the rustling trees:
the hunters see us coming along
we’re singing our bear protection song
out of the woods with sword and bow
it’s time for the hunters to pack up and go!!
hunters find they do not dare,
to shoot the bear while we are there . . . . . . .