"Boy Cried Wolf" as written by and Patti 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

Lyrics submitted by Maraja

"Boy Cried Wolf" as written by Patti Smith


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Boy Cried Wolf song meanings
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  • 0
    General CommentSt Sebastian was an officer in the Roman army. The Emperor ordered his execution, and he was stripped naked, tied to a tree, and shot full of arrows. He survived, and a second order had him beaten to death and thrown into a sewer.
    morethanadreamon March 16, 2006   Link
  • 0
    General CommentAmanda Bynes, Lindsey Lohan, Paris Hilton, Marie Antoinette, Joan of Arc, Saint Stephen, Jesus Christ… Wolves, all of them! Wolves they say. Wolves you say. Wolves I say! Tear them up and tear them down. Shred and rip and maul and bound about in a dance of reverie!


    - Credit to Slate Magazine's Gung Ho Review for guiding me to such insights.
    EatingPieon October 13, 2014   Link
  • 0
    My InterpretationAlong with my previous, here is another of my viewpoints.

    If innocence had its day, how do we get that back? History, told and retold, of our long fruitless search, often looking to the earth herself. Druidic human sacrifice (legend has it, inspiration for Christmas ornaments, and traditional red and white). Dancing and crying to the moon, flowers and garlands of blood. But the earth is the earth. Powerless, like cries to the wind.

    But one image stands out: "Slain the lamb that is himself." (Or as sung Slain is the lamb that is myself / Pray to the lamb that is himself). All before was certainly futile. But this?

    It takes me back… To a King lifted, a King thrown: tied to a tree like Saint Sebastian, turned his head willingly, painfully as the points drove in… And the human tide, Lost, now received, finally, finally… retrieved...

    EatingPieon October 13, 2014   Link

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