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THE PRODIGAL SON

The wayward son demands his share
Come give me father, silver, gold
I look towards the world so fair
Impetuous youth will not be told

I drink the world, her wine is sweet
With friendly laughter all around
Companions have I, me to fete
The friendliest folk that can be found

Forget I soon the simple home,
The unexciting way of life
Far sooner choose the world to roam
To taste contrasting, pleasure, strife

With money gone, no friends to dine
They melted like the mists of morn
I in desperation feed the swine
My distant home no longer scorn

So, as the days pass slowly by
My mind o’er foolishness to stray
My heart on wings to home would fly
In sorry state ‘tis now I pray

I will arise and make my way
To where I know my friends are true
I will confess I’ve gone astray
Oh Father can I work for you?

Footsteps weary, ever so hot
Weak and tired, no food to sustain
Passing by familiar spots
Catching a glimpse of home again

What coming with quick moving feet
‘Tis Father I see coming over the plain
Coming swiftly, hands out to greet
The son, who gave both the tears and the pain.

Jesus is waiting to welcome you home
Prodigal sinner, Christian gone cold
Jesus would have you no longer to roam
He will tenderly shepherd you into the fold.

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