For the
day, I was thinking of going.
I had to leave right away.
My life is just fading.
And oh, I felt so alone.
The nearest young maiden was a four seas ride from home.
I was reading the holy books in his room.
My heart was just bleeding.
I knew I had to go through.
He smiled and pointed to an old wooden chair.
I wanted to hold him, but then I just wouldn't dare.
I said, Father, there's much to know.
There's a world of things to see, and I'm ready.
If you give me what is mine, I'm
gonna leave anyway.
You must be leaving home.
Then go.
Not
too many days later, I was well on my way.
I met a traveling stranger who seemed to have much to say.
He told me tales of the city and all the women he'd had.
I asked him, wasn't that sinful?
He said, no, it isn't that bad.
And then a few days later, on an old city road, we were drowning in laughter,
and we had women to hold.
And this went on quite a long time.
My father gave me a lot.
But when my pockets were empty, Lord, my friends all left me to ride.
Then a famine hit and drained the land.
Everywhere I looked, I saw starvation.
And a job was so hard to find.
I wandered through the city streets, competing for the food of convent bakers.
Up till then, I'd never known I wasn't too proud.
Feeding pigs on a farm, I wasn't treated too kindly, Lord.
I had to sleep in the barn.
I had to eat with the swine.
The bread I ate was like stolen.
It didn't take too much time until I was dreaming of home.
Oh, the servants there are better fed.
If I could only have what my father gives them, I would truly need nothing more.
Oh, I will go and say to him, I'm no longer worthy to be in your family.
Will you take me as your servant?
And let me live with them.
It didn't take too long to pack my things.
I left with only what I wore.
As I pray that I still have a home.
I
was near home, in sight of the house.
My father just stared, dropped open his mouth.
He ran up the rope and fell to my feet and cried.
I've sinned, have been ashamed.
I'm no longer worthy to wear your name.
Will you take me in?
The best rope, put it on my son.
Shoes for his feet, hurry, put them on.
This is my son, who I thought had died.
Prepare a feast for my son, he's alive.
I prayed and prayed, never heard a sound.
My son was lost, oh thank you God, he's found.
My son was dead and now alive.
Prepare a feast for my son's life.
My son was dead, my son was lost.
My son's return in the hands of God.