Souvenirs
John Prine feat. Steve Goodman Lyrics
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Christmas days have come and gone
Broken toys and faded colours are all that's left to linger on
I hate graveyards and old pawn shops
For they always bring me tears
I can't forgive the way they robbed me of my childhood souvenirs
Memories, they can't be boughten
Well it took me years to get those souvenirs
And I don't know how they slipped away from me
Broken hearts and dirty windows
Make life difficult to see
That's why last night and this morning
Always look the same to me
And I hate reading old love letters
For they always bring me tears
I can't forget the way they robbed me
Of my sweetheart's souvenirs
Memories, they can't be boughten
They can't be won at carnivals for free
Well it took me years to get those souvenirs
And I don't know how they slipped away from me
The lyrics to John Prine and Steve Goodman's song "Souvenirs" offer a poignant reflection on the way memories and mementos shape our lives. The first verse sets the scene with a wistful tone, as the singer looks back on a Christmas past and laments the passing of time. He notes that broken toys and faded colors are all that's left of that time, and expresses a deep sadness at the loss of his childhood souvenirs. The second verse shifts to a more general sentiment, as the singer reflects on the way broken hearts and dirty windows can make life hard to see. Once again memories are invoked, with the singer expressing a longing for lost love letters and souvenirs from past relationships.
The chorus acts as both a refrain and a commentary on the verses, underscoring the idea that memories cannot be bought or won. The singer suggests that it took him years to collect these treasured mementos, yet somehow they have managed to slip away from him. The lyrics offer a moving meditation on the way the past informs the present, and how our memories can shape our sense of self.
Line by Line Meaning
All the snow has turned to water
The winter season is over and everything that was once cold and crisp is now melting and disappearing.
Christmas days have come and gone
The holiday season has ended and there's nothing left of it but a distant memory.
Broken toys and faded colours are all that's left to linger on
The remnants of the holiday season are just a collection of broken and damaged items that remind us of what once was.
I hate graveyards and old pawn shops
The artist has negative associations with these places because they remind him of loss and regret.
For they always bring me tears
These places have an emotional impact on the artist, causing him to feel sadness and sorrow.
I can't forgive the way they robbed me of my childhood souvenirs
The singer feels like he has lost something valuable from his childhood because of these places.
Memories, they can't be boughten
You can't purchase memories with money or win them through games and prizes.
They can't be won at carnivals for free
Even though carnivals offer the chance to win prizes and souvenirs, they can't give you the memories that come with them.
Well it took me years to get those souvenirs
The artist put in a lot of time and effort to acquire the items that hold sentimental value to him.
And I don't know how they slipped away from me
The artist doesn't understand how he lost these important souvenirs and memories.
Broken hearts and dirty windows
The world can feel difficult and jaded when we are struggling with heartbreak and can't see things clearly.
Make life difficult to see
Our personal struggles can cloud our perspective and make it hard to see things in a positive light.
That's why last night and this morning always look the same to me
When we are going through tough times, the days can all blend together and feel monotonous.
And I hate reading old love letters
The singer doesn't like revisiting old memories of romantic love.
For they always bring me tears
The memories of love are painful for the singer to revisit.
I can't forget the way they robbed me of my sweetheart's souvenirs
The same feeling of loss that the artist experienced with childhood souvenirs is now being associated with lost memories of love.
Memories, they can't be boughten
This line is repeated to emphasize the inherent value of memories and the fact that they can't be replaced with material possessions.
They can't be won at carnivals for free
This line is repeated to remind us that memories can't be acquired or valued in the same way as things that can be picked up at a fair or amusement park.
Well it took me years to get those souvenirs
This line is repeated to show that the souvenirs, memories, and sentimental items are all things that hold value beyond their physical worth.
And I don't know how they slipped away from me
This line is repeated to emphasize the confusion and sadness associated with losing something so meaningful.
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: John Prine
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@dylanrjohnson
I don’t know the meaning of life but I’m pretty sure it’s in a John Prine song. 🖤
He got old, but he never got old. RIP to the only songwriter that’s inspired me and got me through as much as Bob Dylan.
John Prine has been my beacon of hope through this virus, living in New York, California and just most of the last two decades. He was the one musician who felt like they were there with me through the best and worst moments of my life.
No one else could singularly personify the joys and pain of life in so few words. I had to wipe tears from eyes two days ago listening to Lake Marie (the live session at West 54th obviously, the middle verse of you were wondering) Then I had to question why a song lyric, that wasn’t supposed to be sad, had me weeping dead sober in the middle of the day. Just because it was beautiful.
I would be more shocked and surprised if the writing wasn’t on the wall. He recorded what has to the best last album to grace this world. All in all, I really just feel kinda lucky that we got to spend
time on the same earth as this guy. All the snow has turned to water. RIP
@colinpettit3448
Back in 1976 or so I used to go to a pub in the middle of the Kent countryside on a Sunday evening to see a great band who played every week. I was familiar with most of their material but they played song called Souvenirs a couple of times . I asked the lead singer who wrote it and he said " The best songwriter you've never heard of ,his name is John Prine. The next day I bought an L.P. of his and been a huge fan ever since. Great,great songs and a great man. I saw him at The London Palladium years ago and although it's a pretty big theatre he made it seem like his own front room.
When I get to Heaven
I'm going to shake God's hand
Thank Him for more blessings
Than one man can stand
Then I'm gonna get a guitar
And start a Rock and Roll band
Check into a swell hotel
AIint the Afterlife grand.
Thanks John, for being friend for the last 45 years. RIP
@mocomcpee
Congratulations, John. Although you’re a million miles away (playing for Angels, no doubt), you are still forever in each and every one of our hearts.
In your own special way, you have reached right into us and touched us in a way that we didn’t even know was possible.
You were ‘sangin’ ‘bout something,’ but we (the hip ones!) recognized that deep within those layers, you were really sangin’ ‘bout something else altogether.
And we collectively thought- “Damn! He’s saying EXACTLY what I FEEL! How does he know???”
That gift or talent or where-with-all is something that ‘can’t be boughten.’
You got it, John.
And you gave it to us.
And they’re STILL recognizing you for it.
You must have been a great hang.
@jeanineshiman8228
I didn't know John Prine until the day he passed away, but I know him now , an somehow I miss him as though he were my lifelong friend
@rjh1226
Strange, I knew the name forever. Now I’m playing his Songs and I hadn’t listened to him until two weeks ago. I’m sorry I only decided to check him out so late in life
@gregorycrum4182
Miss John & Steve Goodman. 😢
@nogrey
My experience exactly. Now I don’t go a day without listening to his music, and missing him.
@m.acosta6465
Well welcome to the club....better late than never
@mickdunne8937
He is magic
@michaelmueller8772
Rest in Peace, John. You were the most modest and beautiful of giants.
John wrote songs that captured the genuine, broken beauty of humanity. Leonard Cohen once noted that the cracks in everything are how the lights gets in. John Prine was the light.
@johanesmuylargo
Thanks for writing that.
@patdee9065
That choked me up. May his light shine on.
@jeffgaumond4250
A hundred years from now when the tribal remnants of our civilization huddle around their campfires at night they will be singing songs by Lennon and McCartney, Bob Dylan and John Prine.