Our next litho-tune was suggested by Elena from Grosseto. She wrote us on March 21, the very day on which we kicked off Participatory Lithology and issued our call for songs someway related to stones, rocks, and minerals. John Prine falls in the category of songwriters who manage to mix in a single story sad and happy feelings, serious issues and ironic views. So: he was a very cool dude, but not for everybody. To make analogies with Italian songwriters, icons of this genre are Giorgio Gaber, Enzo Jannacci, and to a lesser extent Francesco Guccini and Fabrizio de André….or, to speak of newer generations, our friend Giancane (see the Jan. 20, 2019, branobag).
We are interrupting this lithobag for an important communication: if you have not yet seen Mauro the T-Rex:
yes, him…singing the Participatory Lithology song, please put any business on hold and
….we were saying: here is John Prine, with Sam Stone. The song was published in 1971, but it is always interesting to check how things work live, and in time:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtrALjg0-xQ
Sam Stone came home, | Sam Stone tornò a casa
To his wife and family | dalla moglie e la famiglia
After serving in the conflict overseas. | dopo aver combattuto nella guerra d’oltremare
And the time that he served, | e il servizio militare
Had shattered all his nerves, | gli aveva sbriciolato i nervi
And left a little shrapnel in his knee. | e lasciato una piccola scheggia nel ginocchio
But the morphine eased the pain, | ma la morfina alleviò il dolore
And the grass grew round his brain, | e l’erba gli crebbe intorno al cervello
And gave him all the confidence he lacked, | e gli diede tutta la confidenza che gli mancava
With a Purple Heart and a monkey on his back. | con un Purple Heart [ndt: decorazione al valor militare negli USA] e una scimmia sulla spalla
[Chorus:]
There’s a hole in daddy’s arm where all the money goes, | c’è un buco nel braccio di babbo, dove vanno a finire tutti i soldi
Jesus Christ died for nothin’ I suppose. | Mi sa che Gesù Cristo è morto per niente
Little pitchers have big ears, | i bimbi sentono tutto
Don’t stop to count the years, | non smettere di contare gli anni
Sweet songs never last too long on broken radios. | le canzoni dolci non durano mai abbastanza sulle radio rotte
Mmm….
Sam Stone’s welcome home | Il bentornato di Sam Stone
Didn’t last too long. | non durò troppo a lungo
He went to work when he’d spent his last dime | e andò a lavorare, spendendo fino all’ultimo soldo
And Sammy took to stealing | allora Sam cominciò a rubare
When he got that empty feeling | quando gli prendeva quel senso di vuoto
For a hundred dollar habit without overtime. | per un vizio da cento dollari senza straordinario
And the gold rolled through his veins | e l’oro scorreva nelle sue vene
Like a thousand railroad trains, | come un migliaio di treni
And eased his mind in the hours that he chose, | e gli alleggeriva la mente nelle ore che sceglieva
While the kids ran around wearin’ other peoples’ clothes…| mentre i ragazzi correvano intorno con i vestiti di altra gente
[Chorus]
Sam Stone was alone | Sam Stone era da solo
When he popped his last balloon | quando fece scoppiare il suo ultimo palloncini
Climbing walls while sitting in a chair | arrampicandosi sui muri da seduto
Well, he played his last request | be’, fece suonare la sua ultima richiesta
While the room smelled just like death | mentre la stanza odorava di morte
With an overdose hovering in the air | con un’overdose che aleggiava nell’aria
But life had lost its fun | ma la vita aveva perso il suo bello
And there was nothing to be done | e non c’era niente da fare
But trade his house that he bought on the G. I. Bill | se non scambiare la casa che aveva comprato coi soldi del militare
For a flag draped casket on a local heroes’ hill. | per una bara con sopra una bandiera, nella collina degli eroi del posto
[Chorus]