[Intro - a clawhammer banjo and a droning modal fiddle, a steady old-time stomp]

[Chorus]
A camp with no walls, a camp with no walls,
Wherever His people sing.
You will not find it on a map,
But you will find the King.

[Verse 1 - the walls are people]
The walls are made of people,
Pressed in close and warm.
The roof is just His covering
That holds off every storm.

[Verse 2 - no door, the cornerstone]
There is no door to lock at night,
The way is always wide.
The cornerstone is Jesus Christ,
And the camp is His own bride.

[Chorus]
A camp with no walls, a camp with no walls,
Wherever His people sing.
You will not find it on a map,
But you will find the King.

[Verse 3 - no steeple, no bell]
There is no steeple pointing up,
No bell up in a tower.
The singing is the only bell we have,
And love is all our power.

[Bridge - where two or three are gathered]
Where two or three are gathered up,
He said that He is there.
He never said a sanctuary,
He never said a square.
The camp was always flesh and blood,
The brethren and the Lord.
They buried it in brick and stone,
But the church walked out the door.

[Chorus]
A camp with no walls, a camp with no walls,
Wherever His people sing.
You will not find it on a map,
But you will find the King.

[Outro]
A camp with no walls,
A camp with no walls.
Wherever His people lift the song,
He is in the midst of it all.