| Sam Stone came home
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| To his wife and family
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| After serving in the conflict overseas.
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| In the Times that he serve
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| It had shattered all his nerve
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| And left a little shrapnel in his knee
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| But the morphine eased the pain
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| And the grass grew round his brain
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| And gave him all the confidence he lack
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| For a Purple Heart and a monkey on his back
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| There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes
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| Jesus Christ died for nothing I suppose
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| Little pictures have big ears
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| But don’t stop to count the years
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| Sweet songs never last to long on broken radios
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| Sam Stone’s welcome home didn’t last too long
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| He went to work when he spent his last dime
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| And then Sammy took to stealing
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| When he got that empty feeling
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| For a hundred dollar habit without overtime
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| And the cold r thru his veins
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| Like a thousand railroad trains
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| Eased his mind in the hours that he chose
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| While his kids ran around wearing other people’s clothes.
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| There’s a whole in daddy s arm where all the money goes
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| Jesus Christ died for nothing I suppose
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| Little pictures have big ears
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| But don’t stop to count the years
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| Sweet songs never last to long on broken radios.
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| Sam Stone was alone when he popped his last balloon
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| Climbing walls while sit in a chair
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| But he played his last request
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| While the room smelled just like death
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| With an overdose hovering in the air.
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| But life had lost all its fun
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| And there’s nothing to be done
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| But trade his house that he bought on a GI bill
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| For a Flag ship casket over at Motel Heroes’Hill
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| There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes.
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| Jesus Christ died for nothing I suppose
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| Little pictures have big ears
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| But don’t stop to count the years
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| Sweet songs never last to long on broken radios |