Music Video

Nathaniel Rateliff - Sam Stone featuring John Prine (The Marigold Singles - Official Audio)
Watch {trackName} music video by {artistName}

Featured In

Listen to The Marigold Singles - Single by Nathaniel Rateliff
ALBUMThe Marigold Singles - SingleNathaniel Rateliff
Listen to Nathaniel Rateliff Essentials featuring Nathaniel Rateliff
PLAYLISTNathaniel Rateliff EssentialsApple Music Rock
Listen to John Prine: Deep Cuts featuring Nathaniel Rateliff
PLAYLISTJohn Prine: Deep CutsApple Music Acoustic

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Nathaniel Rateliff
Nathaniel Rateliff
Vocals
John Prine
John Prine
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
John Prine
John Prine
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nathaniel Rateliff
Nathaniel Rateliff
Producer
Sean Sullivan
Sean Sullivan
Recording Engineer

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 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 And 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-hmm-hmm-hmm Sam Stone's welcome home Didn't last too long He went to work when he'd spent his last dime And soon he 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 people's clothes There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes And 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-hmm-hmm-hmm Sam Stone was alone When he popped his last balloon Climbing walls while sittin' in a chair Well, he played his last request While the room smelled just like death With an overdose hoverin' in the air But life had lost its fun And there was nothin' 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 And, 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-hmm-hmm-hmm Hmm Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm
Writer(s): John Prine Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out