The candle in the window
The last warm light I saw
He lit it as I turned my gaze away
Did he think it would guide me home one day
My gut is empty, I'm hungry
And I squandered the riches I took when I fled
My father, and his country
On troves of treasure, and fleshly pleasure
Maybe I could go home
And rest in my own bed
I wonder if my father would resist
And disown me for all that I did
Or maybe I'll go, and offer
My hand in service to pay my debt till I'm dead
And he's happy
A beggar of grace, a servants place
Walking with my head down
Does father still think of me
What will he do when I reach the house
Will he hear me words and accept my plea
Right then I looked up, and I saw him
Coming running to me then he kissed my cheek
Son I thought you were dead, but now I can rest
Son I know you were lost, but I still love you