A writer must “know and have an ever-present consciousness that this world is a world of fools and rogues… tormented with envy, consumed with vanity; selfish, false, cruel, cursed with illusions… He should free himself of all doctrines, theories, etiquettes, politics…” —Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914?). “The nobility of the writer's occupation lies in resisting oppression, thus in accepting isolation” —Albert Camus (1913-1960). “What are you gonna do” —Bertha Brown (1895-1987).
Sam Stone came home to the wife and family After servin’ 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
(Refrain): There’s a hole in daddy’s arm Where all the money goes Jesus Christ died for nothin’, I suppose Little pictures have big ears Don’t stop to count the years Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone’s welcome home didn’t last too long He went to work when he spent his last dime And Sammy took to stealin’ when he got that empty feelin’ 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 people’s clothes
(Refrain)
Sam Stone was alone when he popped his last balloon Climbin’ walls while sittin’ in a chair Well, he played his last request While the room smelled just like death With an overdose hoverin’ in the air
But life had lost its fun; there was nothin’ to be done But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill For a flag-draped casket on a local hero’s hill
Sam Stone by John Prine
ReplyDeleteSam Stone came home to the wife and family
After servin’ 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
(Refrain): There’s a hole in daddy’s arm
Where all the money goes
Jesus Christ died for nothin’, I suppose
Little pictures have big ears
Don’t stop to count the years
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios
Sam Stone’s welcome home didn’t last too long
He went to work when he spent his last dime
And Sammy took to stealin’ when he got that empty feelin’
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 people’s clothes
(Refrain)
Sam Stone was alone when he popped his last balloon
Climbin’ walls while sittin’ in a chair
Well, he played his last request
While the room smelled just like death
With an overdose hoverin’ in the air
But life had lost its fun; there was nothin’ to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill
For a flag-draped casket on a local hero’s hill
(Refrain)