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 
A-hunting we will go