Analysis of I'M STILL THE PRODIGAL

I'M STILL THE PRODIGAL

Seems like such a long time ago
Minutes to hours to days to years
 Yeah you might call me the prodigal
Long since my joy has turned to tears
Like the wayward son I carry on
When all my hope is dead and gone

You know, I had it all, couldn't wait
Gonna take the world on my myself
So let me go Dad, it's my turn at fate
And the world came and it ate my wealth
And no matter how far I wander and go
Does my Father still seek, the prodigal?

The night is cold, I'm so very far away
The pigs cry, and fling the dirty mud
I loved the world, with the pigs I lay
In my Father's House, Grace will Flood
How long Wayward son will, you carry on
Till these prodigal days are truly gone?

A servant in my Father's house lives good
And I really don't know where else to go
My Father loves me, more than He should
With great joy He welcomes this prodigal
And though my sins are forgiven and Gone
I hear the whisper, “wayward son, carry on”!
Amen