(Dan Messe/Steve Curtis)



Overland

Through the rye

Gun in hand

Bird in sky

Calling out to the world below

A-hunting we will go



Every field

Ripe and fine

Every man

A friend of mine

On the trails that we name or know

A-hunting we will go



Throw some light on me

Tell me what you see

Every mystery grows like a vine

Reaching out to the sun for a while

And holding the soil

forever and ever



Now the sun

Has not stirred

Rusted gun

Fallen bird

Side by side in the world below