About the song
Let’s delve into the poignant melody that has left an indelible mark on listeners’ hearts – “Sam Stone” by the revered John Prine. This haunting ballad, with its raw emotion and stark storytelling, serves as a powerful reminder of the human experience and the toll of war.
Penned by the incomparable John Prine himself, “Sam Stone” found its home on his eponymous debut album released in 1971. This album, a seminal work in the folk music genre, showcased Prine’s songwriting prowess and established him as a voice to be reckoned with in the music industry.
Upon its release, “Sam Stone” resonated deeply with audiences, earning critical acclaim for its poignant lyrics and emotive delivery. Although it didn’t achieve widespread commercial success, it garnered admiration from fellow musicians and critics alike for its profound storytelling and social commentary.
What sets “Sam Stone” apart is its unflinching portrayal of the struggles faced by veterans returning from war, particularly those grappling with addiction and trauma. Prine’s evocative lyrics and soulful vocals capture the essence of human suffering with striking clarity, inviting listeners to empathize with the plight of its titular character.
As we reflect on this timeless masterpiece, we’re reminded of John Prine’s enduring legacy as a master storyteller and troubadour of the human condition. “Sam Stone” stands as a testament to his talent and compassion, continuing to resonate with audiences as a poignant reminder of the cost of war and the resilience of the human spirit.
Video
Lyrics
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 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
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, mmhmm
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
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, mmhmm
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
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
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, mmhmm