• А
  • Б
  • В
  • Г
  • Д
  • Е
  • Ж
  • З
  • И
  • К
  • Л
  • М
  • Н
  • О
  • П
  • Р
  • С
  • Т
  • У
  • Ф
  • Х
  • Ц
  • Ч
  • Ш
  • Э
  • Ю
  • Я
  • A
  • B
  • C
  • D
  • E
  • F
  • G
  • H
  • I
  • J
  • K
  • L
  • M
  • N
  • O
  • P
  • Q
  • R
  • S
  • T
  • U
  • V
  • W
  • X
  • Y
  • Z
  • #
  • Текст песни John Prine - Sam Stone

    Просмотров: 8
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
    0 чел. считают текст песни неверным
    Тут находится текст песни John Prine - Sam Stone, а также перевод, видео и клип.

    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

    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

    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

    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

    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

    Опрос: Верный ли текст песни?
    ДаНет