John Prine (Maywood, Illinois, 10 de octubre de 1946) es un cantautor de country y folk estadounidense con un amplio éxito, tanto de crítica como de público, desde la década de 1970.
Sus padres fueron William Prine y Verna Hamm. Su abuelo había sido guitarrista de Merle Travis y Prine se inició como guitarrista a los catorce años. Durante cinco años trabajó como cartero, e hizo el servicio militar antes de comenzar su carrera musical en Chicago.
¡Cuatro años de duro trabajo!Este mes de mayo cumplimos cuatro años al aire. Seguimos trabajando en la difusión de este maravilloso instrumento, ¡gracias por participar en nuestra historia!
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------# #This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the # #song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. # #------------------------------------------------------------------------------## From uunet!wupost!darwin.sura.net!news.udel.edu!diusys!walt Mon Aug 17 14:54:06 PDT 1992 Article: 1596 of alt.guitar.tab Newsgroups: alt.guitar.tab Path: nevada.edu!uunet!wupost!darwin.sura.net!news.udel.edu!diusys!walt From: walt@diusys (Walt Dabell) Subject: Re: John Prine requests Message-ID: Sender: [email protected] Nntp-Posting-Host: diusys.cms.udel.edu Organization: University of Delaware X-Newsreader: Tin 1.1 PL3 References: <[email protected]> Distribution: na Date: Sun, 16 Aug 1992 18:30:57 GMT Lines: 75
Sam Stone by John Prine
G Sam Stone came home, C To the wife and family DG After serving in the conflict overseas. G And the time that he served, C Had shattered all his nerves, DG And left a little shrapnel in his knees. C But the morhpine eased the pain, C And the grass grew round his brain, ADD7 And gave him all the confidence he lacked, ADD7 With a purple heart and a monkey on his back.
CHORUS: GC There's a hole in daddy's arm where all the money goes, DG Jesus Christ died for nothin I suppose. G Little pitchers have big ears, C Don't stop to count the years, DGCG 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 soon he took to stealing When he got that empty feeling For a hundred dollar habit without overtime. And the gold roared 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...
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 it's fun, There was nothing to be done, But trade his house that he bought on the GI bill, For a flag-draped casket on a local hero's hill.
CHORUS --------------------- Credit where credit is due: I got the words from a lyrics ftp site and am sitting here on a Saturday night with guitar and PeeC in hand transcribing the chords when John Prine himself is playing in concert not 40 miles from here at this very moment. Gosh I feel empty. WORDS Transcribed by Rich Kulawiec, [email protected] CHORDS by Walt Dabell
-- __________________________________________________________ Walt Dabell KD3GS (302)645-4225 [email protected] U of Delaware / College of Marine Studies 700 Pilottown Rd. Lewes, DE 19958