Sam Stone

Sam Stone came home,

to his wife and family,

after serving in the conflict overseas.

had shattered all his nerves,

and left a little shrapnel in his knee.

But the morphine eased the pain,

and gave him all the confidence he lacked;

with a Purple Heart and a monkey on his back.

There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes,

and 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. Mm  m….

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,

for a hundred dollar habit without overtime.

And the gold rolled through his veins,

and eased his mind in the hours that he chose;

while the kids ran around wearin’ other peoples’ clothes…

There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes,

and 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. Mm  m….

Sam Stone was alone,

when he popped his last balloon,

climbing walls while sitting in a chair

while the room smelled just like death,

with an overdose hovering in the air

But life had lost its fun,

but trade his house that he bought on the G, I. Bill;

for a flag draped casket on a local heroes’ hill

There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes,

and 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. Mm  m….

Mm  m….