Arrowhead, arrowhead buried in the ground
Many years you’ve been there waiting to be found
Long ago a Shawnee brave shot you from his bow
On the end of an arrow through the air you’d go
Everything was different in those olden days
The Shawnee lived off of the land and planted fields of maize
They’d wander through the forest among the giant trees
The arrowhead might’ve been made by one of those Shawnee
This arrowhead might’ve helped to feed a family
Or keep them safe from danger or keep them proud and free
Now we hold it in our hands the stories it could tell
If we just will listen and learn its lessons well