Sam Stone came home to his wife and family
After servin' 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
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 stealin' when he got that empty feelin'
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, mm
After servin' 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
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 stealin' when he got that empty feelin'
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, mm
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