A father sits on his porch reminiscing
About a time when him and his son weren't so distant
And how he misses him
And how if he could just see him again he would run and hug him and kiss him
Miles away a son is thinking the same thing
Until his man hollers and interrupts his day dream
Back to work, but his back it hurts
He's been thinking lately about going back to church
Cuz that would kind of remind him of his roots
Of a time when he wasn't grinding shining others boots
But that's the best he can do now
He's too proud to stay at the group home
Was on his own since he was juvenile
So he sleeps on the streets, using concrete for sheets
And he eats when he eats, and it's so cold
He looks so old but he's young
He hung in the bars all types of scars
Life beat him down it was no holds barred
It's been six years-twenty days
Since he's been gone but how did he get here anyway?
This wasn't how it was supposed to be
Think back to the day before he chose to leave
When he stepped to his dad and he asked for the cash
That he would receive after his dad passed
So that's what he gave him
The father was bothered by the request but after a while he caved in
Said "all of the wealth that I've earned
And saved up must pay for the lessons my son must learn
And I pray that he learns when this is done
This is my one wish for my youngest son"
How long, how long will the prodigal roam
How long, how long before he comes home
How long, how long will he chase harm
And keep running away from the father's arms
Young, come home
Son, come home
Run, come home
Run, come home
Daughter, come home
You ought to, come home
Run, come home
Run, come home
The saga continues
The father gave into the son the son left with his friends who
Really had no cash of their own
Just running the same track wanting too fast to be grown
They figured with these figures in our pockets
We can invest these digits and get even richer than your pop is
Find ourselves a nice good hustle
Buy some protection, find some hood muscle
As soon as we get to another city
We can put this money to work for ourselves and get busy
Buying houses, fixing them up and flipping them
I can just picture getting the dividends rolling in like Michelins
From the time they arrived on the scene
They thrived with his father's business sense in his genes
Of the three he proved to be the smartest
Buy targeted the hottest commodities on the market
They went from knowing and going to the parties
To being the ones with the dough throwing all the parties
Made money money made money money money
And wanted to date honeys so he paid money money
He was killing it, stocking up his chips
Til the economy switched, stock market flipped
At first his properties flying, today nothing's popping
Stocks dropping, nobodies buying
He's over extended in his credit
Selling his cars and cribs to try to pay his dept with
He's left with nada
Friends gone, females bon-voyaged and no one will bother
Is this what chasing pleasure and wealth does
Leaves you out freezing with no help and shelter?
It's helter skelter in his dome
He spends all his time wondering why he left home
How long, how long will the prodigal roam
How long, how long before he comes home
How long, how long will he chase harm
And keep running away from the father's arms
Does this sound familiar
I'm sure it's similar the symbolism is bound to kill ya
Who else do we know
That would leave the safety of a loving Father wandering trying to go
To a distant place, and dis His grace
Just to waste His mercy making big mistakes
Then when all is lost and the bridges are burned
And they realize there's nowhere else that they can turn
They turn to the steeple and return to the sheepfold
Isn't that just like God's people?
In every era of time
God's people made the error of severing the ties
With the Father and His love
Aren't you glad He treats us like the father of the prodigal does
When the son finally came to his senses
He realized it was better inside his father fences
Said I wonder if I would returned there
Would I be able to last under the burn of His holy stare
But wasn't aware that the same eyes that hate sin
Had been watching the road and waitin to for him to return again
How long, how long will the prodigal roam
How long, how long before he comes home
How long, how long will he chase harm
And keep running away from the father's arms
