Who shot the bird boy
And strung his body through the elm?
The townsfolk knew of no angel blood But the huntsmen loved him like hell

At moonrise they would find him
Chewing a thistle 'tween his teeth
For a cigarette, he'd spread those goosefeather wings And weave to the tippy-tops of trees
Higher and higher, 'till his lips could kiss the clouds He'd rattle the grouse from their nests and The men would fire from the ground

Who shot the bird boy
And sawed off both his wings?
Which of you men will shift your eyes
When asked: Where did you find this meat?
'Cause we had three good feasts before The silence in the woods felt wrong
When the hollers of the birdboy were
The only hint of birdsong

Deeper and darker, the hollowed night bled through to dawn He'd rattle the trees but they were empty
A rain of nests upon the ground
Who shot the bird boy And which of us is next?
When a handshake with the hunters
Won't ever save you from being hunted

Ooh, ooh, ooh (oh, oh, oh, oh)

When the well runs dry or the waters rise
Where will the barrel be pointed?
When the anger festers and the huntin' grounds wither
Where will the barrel be pointed?
Where will the barrel be pointed?