‘Go my own way, with money to spend …
Everyone’s friendly – I’ve plenty to lend …
exciting wild living, no time to be sad,
no work, and no duties, who’s to say that I’m bad …?
‘The money has gone, no pals’ helping hand,
I’m hungry, and famine’s besetting the land,
prices as rising – can I work for some food?’
“Yes, you can go feed my pigs!” ‘Oh, how I would
eat what they’ve got, I’m so starving still,
longing for something my stomach to fill …
‘My father has servants – they’ve food to spare.
I’ve wasted his money, no longer an heir,
but maybe he’d give me a better job there,
I’ll tell him I’m sorry – will he still for me care …?
The father when seeing him, ran to him, kissed –
Oh, how this prodigal child he had missed!
Gladly he welcomed his humble son home.’
‘My wandering, squandering nightmare is gone.’
cf. Luke 15:7-31