(Smith)
|
Oh the story's told been told retold
|
From the sacred scriptures to the
|
tabloids
|
All the fuss and fight none above a
|
whisper
|
The soul of gold the belly of a boy
|
|
Well they drew him from the forest
|
Like they draw blood
|
Tied him to a tree like St. Sebastian
|
And he turned his head and let the
|
arrows fly
|
Through the trees, the trees
|
The ornamental leaves
|
|
Boy cried wolf
|
Wolf don't come
|
Wolf within
|
Boy cried wolf
|
|
In the ancient mold they're dancing
|
down
|
Calling to the moon but it don't answer
|
And they fell on their knees
|
and passed the bowl around
|
And the blood the blood the
|
sacramental blood
|
|
Boy cried wolf
|
Wolf don't come
|
Wolf within
|
Boy cried wolf
|
|
I am the body I am the stream
|
I am the wake of everything
|
They bring me flowers that are myself
|
Garlands of blood that are myself
|
Slain the lamb that is himself
|
|
Torn reborn the cries of our dismay
|
Are nothing to the wind but whose to
|
mind
|
Kings are lifted up and kings are thrown
|
|
Lost received retrieved
|
The human tide
|
|
Innocence had its day
|
Innocence had its day
|
Innocence innocence
|
|
-----------------
|
Boy Cried Wolf
|
| Patti Smith |
