Prodigal Son 歌词

Staring at a cross of splintered wood My sins washed away through Christ's own blood All my blessings gone, though my mind it wanders on Going home in my memory…. Between the years and the miles I am broken and down Bless me father, where do I begin On my hands and my knees, I go crawling back home, To find absolution within Eighteen years old, but not yet a man With misplaced ideologies Recognizing only God as my equal Left home and disgraced my family With a dream in my head and a restless soul Sensing I would soon be free I took to heart my granddads fables They made up the core of my identity For eight long years I tramped through the fallout Of nuclear society The underclass Forgotten mass in a nation of revelry Fare thee well, my old dear friend The road goes ever on, but I am going home Back to where it all began In a filthy rundown tenement I set out to spread God's name I thought the word would start the fire And my voice would fan the flame But I soon learned that in this hopelessness A great many things went unsaid My first lesson was that good intentions Aren't gonna keep you warm and fed With no recourse I took a job at the packing house No one who I could edify As my dreams like leaves in autumn Disappeared before my eyes