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