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Sam stone came home to his wife and family |
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After serving in the conflict overseas |
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And the time that he served, had shattered all his nerves |
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And left a little shrapnel in his knee |
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But the morphine eased the pain |
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And the grass grew round his brain |
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And gave him all the confidence he lacked |
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With a purple heart and a monkey on his back |
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There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes |
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Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose |
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Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years |
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Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios |
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Sam stone's welcome home, didn't last too long |
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He went to work when he'd spent his last dime |
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And Sammy took to stealing when he got that empty feeling |
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For a hundred dollar habit without overtime |
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And the gold rolled through his veins |
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Like a thousand railroad trains |
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And eased his mind in the hours that he chose |
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While the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes |
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There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes |
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Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose |
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Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years |
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Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios |
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Sam stone was alone when he popped his last balloon |
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Climbing walls while sitting in a chair |
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Well, he played his last request while the room smelled just like death |
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With an overdose hovering in the air |
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But life had lost its fun |
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And there was nothing to be done |
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But trade his house that he bought on the G. I. Bill |
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For a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill |
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There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes |
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Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose |
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Little pitchers have big ears, don't stop to count the years |
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Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios |
