John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
John Prine
The title track off Prine’s fifth studio album, released in 1978.
Lyrically, this song is classic Prine, whose “stuff” Bob Dylan once said: it’s “pure Proustian existentialism. Midwestern mindtrips to the nth degree. And he writes beautiful songs.”
“The first verse,” of Bruised Orange, according t...
My heart's in the ice house, come hill or come valley
Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
Just to shovel some snow
I heard sirens on the train track howl naked, gettin' neutered
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter
Just from walking with his back turned
To the train that was coming so slow
You can gaze out the window, get mad and get madder
Throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry
So help me, I know
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter
You'll become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own
Chain of sorrow
I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
And my head shouted down to my heart
"You better look out below!"
It ain't such a long drop, don't stammer, don't stutter
From the diamonds in the sidewalk to the dirt in the gutter
And you carry those bruises
To remind you wherever you go
You can gaze out the window, get mad and get madder
Throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry
So help me, I know
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter
You'll become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own
Chain of sorrow
My heart's in the ice house, come hill or come valley
Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
Just to shovel some snow
I heard sirens on the train track howl naked, gettin' neutered
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter
Just from walking with his back turned
To the train that was coming so slow
You can gaze out the window, get mad and get madder
Throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry
So help me, I know
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter
You'll become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own
Chain of sorrow
Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow) was written by John Prine.
Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow) was produced by Steve Goodman.
John Prine released Bruised Orange (Chain of Sorrow) on Sun Jan 01 1978.