Sam Stone 歌词

	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

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