Finally I’m getting around to commenting upon one of the songs I mentioned in my test-post, John Prine’s "Sam Stone." In 1971, Prine’s debut album (referred to as the "Haystack" album because of the cover photo) came out on Atlantic Records, if the liner notes are to be believed owing to the intervention and championing of songwriter extraordinaire Kris Kristofferson. It was the right album at the right time, a wise country/country-rock affair in the wake of The Byrds, Gene Clark and CCR helping build a young, hip music-buying audience who could appreciate a more intellectual take on an old genre.
Prine is both a great musician and a sharp lyricist, and had two awesome anti-war songs on the album, "Sam Stone" and the ever-timely "Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore."
In ‘71, I was born into a working class family, son of a Vietnam vet who was wounded twice, developed substance abuse problems and picked up and left before ‘72 rolled around. Think this ditty resonates with me?
An excellent cover version also appeared, in the form of a minor hit, for Swamp Dogg. The Dogg was a political dude and managed to make Nixon’s expanded enemies list, which may have had as many as 600 names.
Sam Stone
©John Prine
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 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.
Chorus:
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 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…
Repeat Chorus:
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
And there was nothing to be done
But trade his house that he bought on the G. I. Bill
For a flag draped casket on a local heroes’ hill.
Repeat Chorus
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