Sam Stone

Sam Stone came home, to his wife and family After serving in the conflict overseas. And the time that he served, Shattered all his nerves, And left a little shrapnel in his knees. 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. There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes, Daddy must have hurt a lot then I suppose. Little pitchers 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'd spent his last dime And soon he took to stealing When he got that empty feeling For a hundred dollar habit without overtime. And the gold roared 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... There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes, Daddy must have suffer a lot then I suppose. Little pitchers have big ears, Don't stop to count the years, Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios. Sam Stone was alone When he popped his last balloon, Climbing walls while sitting in a chair. And he breath his last request, While the room smelled just like death, With an overdose hovering in the air. But life had lost it's fun, And there was nothing 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