Patti Smith

Oh the storys 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 dont come
Wolf within
Boy cried wolf
In the ancient mold theyre dancing down
Calling to the moon but it dont answer
And they fell on their knees
And passed the bowl around