“Prine’s stuff is pure Proustian existentialism. Midwestern mindtrips to the nth degree. And he writes beautiful songs. I remember when Kris Kristofferson first brought him on the scene. All that stuff about ‘Sam Stone’ the soldier junky daddy and ‘Donald and Lydia,’ where people make love from ten miles away. Nobody but Prine could write like that. If I had to pick one song of his, it might be ‘Lake Marie.’ I don’t remember what album that’s on.” – Bob Dylan (Interview with Bill Flanagan 2009)
Spanish Pipe Dreams
She was a level-headed dancer
On the road to alcohol
And I was just a soldier on my way to Montreal
Well, she pressed her chest against me
About the time the juke box broke
Yeah, she give me a peck
On the back of the neck
And these are the words she spoke
“Blow up your TV
Throw away your paper
Go to the country
Build you a home
Plant a little garden
Eat a lot of peaches
Try an’ find Jesus on your own”
Well, I sat there at the table
And I acted real naive
For I knew that topless lady
Had something up her sleeve
Well, she danced around the bar room
And she did the hoochie-coo
Yeah, she sang her song all night long
Tellin’ me what to do
“Blow up your TV
Throw away your paper
Go to the country
Build you a home
Plant a little garden
Eat a lot of peaches
Try an’ find Jesus on your own”
Well, I was young and hungry
And about to leave that place
When just as I was leavin’
Well, she looked me in the face
I said, “You must know the answer”
She said, “No, but I’ll give it a try”
And to this very day, we’ve been livin’ our way
Here is the reason why
We blew up our TV
Threw away our paper
Went to the country
Built us a home
Had a lot of children
Fed ’em on peaches
They all found Jesus on their own
Songwriters: Jeffrey Bradford Kent / John Prine