Come, prodigal child, to your Father,
Why feed on the mountains so bare?
I’m waiting, why stay any longer?
There’s bread enough and to spare.

Come home, come home,
Though weary and tired you roam;
Come home, come home,
O prodigal child, come home.

Come, prodigal child, there is danger
Of staying away too long;
Oh! stop where you are and remember,
You’ve gone from the right to the wrong.

Come, prodigal child, do not tarry;
Why perish with hunger and cold?
Though fearful and wretched and weary,
The Father says, ‘Come to the fold.’

Come, prodigal child, oh, remember
From whence you are fallen, to roam;
Make haste and return to the Father,
Whose mercy will welcome you home.


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