מילים לשיר Sam Stone – John Prine

Sam Stone
by John Prine Sam Stone came home,
To the wife and family
After serving in the conflict overseas.
And the time that he served,
Had shattered all his nerves,
And left a little shrapnel in his knees.
But the morhpine eased the pain,
And the grass grew round his brain,
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back.
And gave him all the confidence he lacked, Little pitchers have big ears,
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Don't stop to count the years, Sam Stone's welcome home
Didn't last too long.
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime
When he got that empty feeling
And soon he took to stealing
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime.
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose,
And the gold roared through his veins
Like a thousand railroad trains,
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes. There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Little pitchers have big ears,
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios. Sam Stone was alone
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair.
Well, he played his last request,
When he popped his last balloon,
While the room smelled just like death,
With an overdose hovering in the air.
There was nothing to be done,
But life had lost it's fun,
For a flagBut trade his house that he bought on the GI bill,
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes, Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose.
Don't stop to count the years,
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios.
Little pitchers have big ears, Transcribed by Rich Kulawiec, rsk@ecn.purdue.edu.