Song | Sam Stone |
Artist | John Prine |
Album | Great Days: The John Prine Anthology |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Prine | |
Lyrics:John Prine Music:John Prine | |
Sam stone came home, | |
To his 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 knee. | |
But the morphine eased the pain, | |
And the grass grew round his brain, | |
And gave him all the confidence he lacked, | |
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back. | |
Chorus: | |
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. | |
Mmm.... | |
Sam stone's welcome home | |
Didn't last too long. | |
He went to work when he'd spent his last dime | |
And sammy took to stealing | |
When he got that empty feeling | |
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime. | |
And the gold rolled through his veins | |
Like a thousand railroad trains, | |
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose, | |
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes... | |
Repeat chorus: | |
Sam stone was alone | |
When he popped his last balloon | |
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair | |
Well, he played his last request | |
While the room smelled just like death | |
With an overdose hovering in the air | |
But life had lost its fun | |
And there was nothing to be done | |
But trade his house that he bought on the g, i. bill | |
For a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill | |
Repeat chorus |
zuo ci : Prine | |
Lyrics: John Prine Music: John Prine | |
Sam stone came home, | |
To his 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 knee. | |
But the morphine eased the pain, | |
And the grass grew round his brain, | |
And gave him all the confidence he lacked, | |
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back. | |
Chorus: | |
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. | |
Mmm.... | |
Sam stone' s welcome home | |
Didn' t last too long. | |
He went to work when he' d spent his last dime | |
And sammy took to stealing | |
When he got that empty feeling | |
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime. | |
And the gold rolled through his veins | |
Like a thousand railroad trains, | |
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose, | |
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes... | |
Repeat chorus: | |
Sam stone was alone | |
When he popped his last balloon | |
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair | |
Well, he played his last request | |
While the room smelled just like death | |
With an overdose hovering in the air | |
But life had lost its fun | |
And there was nothing to be done | |
But trade his house that he bought on the g, i. bill | |
For a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill | |
Repeat chorus |
zuò cí : Prine | |
Lyrics: John Prine Music: John Prine | |
Sam stone came home, | |
To his 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 knee. | |
But the morphine eased the pain, | |
And the grass grew round his brain, | |
And gave him all the confidence he lacked, | |
With a purple heart and a monkey on his back. | |
Chorus: | |
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. | |
Mmm.... | |
Sam stone' s welcome home | |
Didn' t last too long. | |
He went to work when he' d spent his last dime | |
And sammy took to stealing | |
When he got that empty feeling | |
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime. | |
And the gold rolled through his veins | |
Like a thousand railroad trains, | |
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose, | |
While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes... | |
Repeat chorus: | |
Sam stone was alone | |
When he popped his last balloon | |
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair | |
Well, he played his last request | |
While the room smelled just like death | |
With an overdose hovering in the air | |
But life had lost its fun | |
And there was nothing to be done | |
But trade his house that he bought on the g, i. bill | |
For a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill | |
Repeat chorus |