F
Sam Stone came home,
       Bb
to his wife and family,
      C                           F
after serving in the conflict overseas.
        
And the time that he served,
    Bb
had shattered all his nerves,
    C                             F
and left a little shrapnel in his knee. 
        Bb
But the morphine eased the pain,

and the grass grew round his brain,
    G7                             C
and gave him all the confidence he lacked;
       G                  G7            C
with a Purple Heart and a monkey on his back.


          F                                 Gm
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
    Bb                                  C
and Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
       F
Little pitchers have big ears,
      Dm
don't stop to count the years,
      G7                   G                  C   C Csus4 C C
sweet songs never last too long on broken radios. Mmm....


    F
Sam Stone's welcome home,
       Bb
didn't last too long,
   C                                     F
he went to work when he'd spent his last dime
    
And Sammy took to stealing,
        Bb
when he got that empty feeling,
      C                                F
for a hundred dollar habit without overtime. 
        Bb
And the gold rolled through his veins,

like a thousand railroad trains,
    G7                                  C
and eased his mind in the hours that he chose;
          G               G7                     C
while the kids ran around wearin' other peoples' clothes...


          F                                 Gm
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
    Bb                                  C
and Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
       F
Little pitchers have big ears,
      Dm
don't stop to count the years,
      G7                   G                  C   C Csus4 C C
sweet songs never last too long on broken radios. Mmm....


    F
Sam Stone was alone,
        Bb
when he popped his last balloon,
C                                 F
climbing walls while sitting in a chair

Well, he played his last request,
          Bb
while the room smelled just like death,
        C                        F
with an overdose hovering in the air
    Bb
But life had lost its fun,

and there was nothing to be done,
    G7                                          C
but trade his house that he bought on the G, I. Bill;
      G                       G7            C
for a flag draped casket on a local heroes' hill


          F                                 Gm
There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes,
    Bb                                  C
and Jesus Christ died for nothin' I suppose.
       F
Little pitchers have big ears,
      Dm
don't stop to count the years,
      G7                   G                  C   C Csus4 C C
sweet songs never last too long on broken radios. Mmm....


C Csus4 C F
Mmm....
 Ten aranż to własna interpretacja jego autora, udostępniona do prywatnej nauki, edukacji i użytku niekomercyjnego. Sama piosenka, tekst i muzyka pozostają własnością ich posiadaczy praw autorskich. Żeby poprosić o usunięcie, zobacz Nota prawna.