Tag: John Prine

  • Songs of Sacrilege: Sam Stone by John Prine

    john prine
    john prine

    This is the latest installment in the Songs of Sacrilege series. This is a series that I would like readers to help me with. If you know of a song that is irreverent towards religion, makes fun of religion, pokes fun at sincerely held religious beliefs, or challenges the firmly held religious beliefs of others, please send me an email.

    Today’s Song of Sacrilege is Sam Stone by John Prine.

    Video Link

    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

    Bruce Gerencser, 69, lives in rural Northwest Ohio with his wife of 48 years. He and his wife have six grown children and thirteen grandchildren. Bruce pastored Evangelical churches for twenty-five years in Ohio, Texas, and Michigan. Bruce left the ministry in 2005, and in 2008 he left Christianity. Bruce is now a humanist and an atheist.

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