"The Prodigal" tells the familiar story of the wayward child who was welcomed home gladly to his father's house.
Verse 1
Then the Father let him go
And the Son did not look back.
Still the Father watched
While the dust erased his tracks.
Though spring then harvest passed
And his head grew gray with years,
Still he watched and loved and feared,
Waiting for his son to come home.
Verse 2
Where the road turns last toward home,
There the son saw his first glimpse
Of his father’s house
In the distance.
How could he now return
Clothed in shame, with empty hands
To face his father’s wrath?
How could he ever go home?
CHORUS
Afar off the father saw him,
Ran to clasp him in his arms;
He wept aloud and kissed him:
“My son who was lost is found!
Bring a robe and a ring for this hand
And we will dance,
For my son is home again!”
Verse 3
I have wandered many roads;
Wasted time and promise spent.
Though my heart cries,
"I am not worthy,"
Still a father’s love
Waits by an open road
That will lead me home again.
REPEAT CHORUS
Afar off the father watches,
Waits to clasp us in his arms.