Like the Prodigal Son

I was raised in a home, Never hurt for a thing.
But I decided to leave, go on my own, and take all I was owed.
And like the Prodigal son, I was lost and alone.
I spent all that I had and I sure miss my dad, I want to go home

(course)

On the front porch he waits, and long for the day that his son will come home. Prays he alright, hope's he's alive, that he'll come home to stay.

I was sad and ashamed, for all I had done. He might turn me away and I might here him say your no longer my son.
And like the Prodigal son, I made my way home. Although it hurt deep inside, had to swallow my pride, I couldn't take it no more.

(Course)
Dad couldn't see, but he thought it was me coming there from afar. But it turned out to be, it was only a tree, and it broke his poor heart.

Down the long winding road, I made my way home. Is that dad setting there in his old rocking chair, is he waiting for me?
Then he rose with a shout, in his mind was no doubt, that his son had come home, I said dad it is me, and so great to see, you standing there with my mom.

Well, we laughed and we cried, with a tear in his eye, dad opened the door and said, Welcome home.