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I was a prodigal son, and away I did run,
With the money and my own free-will.
But it didn’t take long to spend, or to kick myself again;
In the face, when the truth became real.
But my Father who made me, knew what it took to break me,
To give me a contrite heart, now I’m down on my knees,
And I’m begging Father please, give this boy just one more start.
(1/2 stanza 2 )
My friend Sam wrote a song, and it haunted me so long;
how a minister so strong could go to pot.
But then I went down through there, now his testimony, I share;
It’s a long, dark road back to God.
Because my own free-will was my Achilles heel;
Keeping my foot in my mouth.
Oh Father I pray, please take me back today;
I’m just a prodigal son of the south.
Thought I was spiritually sound, but I let my guard down;
Let Satan take me down through there again.
Thought I could fill my empty dreams, with material things;
And heaven would just open up and let me in.
But my Father above me, let me know how much He loved me;
took away the false guilt and endless doubt, Now I know His love is real;
Wish to tell you how it feels, when He opened the gates of my hell and let me out.