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?