While traveling this land from border to border and from sea to sea
There have a few occasions to leave the beaten path and to find the place
And quiet that´s good for thought and just walking through a trackless forest

Or exploring ruins of the earliest settlers or walking along a creek bed
Hoping to find a relic such as a tomahawk an axe
Or even an arrowhead left by a race of long since vanished Indians
There´s a great thrill and it´s a wonderful feeling to find a flint arrowhead
Over fields of new turned sod and in communion with my God I walked alone
In a furrow bed I found an arrowhead chiseled from stone
I don´t know how long ago some redman drew his bow on its last fight
Or did he drop it here afraid white men were near to attack at night
I do know this one thing beyond all questioning it was made to kill
And proof of a master trade is in this arrowhead he made fashioned with skill

That I inherited this ground is denied by this stone I´ve found but when and by who
Come join me in my tracks then let´s stop and look back to the vale and through
In love and peace we´ll see the shadows and the trees and voices too
But quietly slowly tread this home of the forgotten dead whose bones are dust
I´m proud that their craftsmen´s skill survives the ages still left in my trust