The sun is hot, and here I sit;

Those pigs have got the best of it,

For they have food and I have none,

Yet I was once a rich man's son;

My home was in a mansion grand;

My dad had flacks and herds and land

And servants, too, and garments fine

And here am I out herding swine,

And long for home so far away.

I was a fool, but I was told

At wasn't me, it was my gold

My "friends" desired. I have not doubt

They'd still be hanging fond about

If I ware rich, as in the past,

A costly lesson learned at last!

I couldn't stand the old folks' tales

Or how the world was hard as nails

And I'd be sorry if I went,

For soon my money would be spent

And I'd be broke. I laughed and said:

"Life should be more than daily bread."

I wanted fun, wild parties, wine,

Until I woke one early dawn

And looked to find my money gone,

I begged for help, but no one knew

Who I was then; what could I do

But look for work? I looked, all right;

I hunted work from morn till night,

And begged my food, until one day

I overheard a fellow say

He needed help, So here I am

Out raising someone's breakfast ham!

I'll leave these pigs, I will, I will,

And go back home. I'll walk until

I see my dad and home once more:

I'll knock and wait outside the door

And  then I'll say:  "I'm sorry, Dad,

I've squandered every cent I had

In living high and having fun;

I know you cannot call me son,

But make me as a hired hand

To help you sow and till the land.,

I'll do my best to serve you well,

For just a place in which to dwell,

And food to eat from day to day.

I'm sorry that I went away!"

And so he went, the prodigal,

He walked and walked; he walked, until----

"I'm almost home! I just can't wait!

But who is standing by the gate?

It can't be Dad---- It just can't  be

That he is waiting there for me!

Oh, Dad, it's I; I've come, I've come!

I  know you cannot call me son

For I have lived so wickedly

And spent the gold you gave to me.  

What's that you say? You do forgive

The wicked way I chose to live?

You take your rode, so clean and fair,

To cover up the rags I wear?

It's hard to know just what to say,

But, Dad, I'm home! I'm home to  stay!"

son.