The prodigal son was rather bored
His world was endlessly dull
He wondered if by getting some loot
He could make his life more full.
So off to dad he meekly went
To claim what he was due
He nearly fainted, the answer was yes
And gladness did ensue.

Off to a land of fun and games
A Wiltshire of those days
And lavished all his newfound wealth
On women, cards and takeaways.
Very soon he had none left
His pockets empty were
His friends had all deserted him
Oh what a state, Oh er.

The only option was to return
A sad bedraggled son
Expecting nothing but I told you so
His journey back begun.
All the way he feared the worst
Disownment was expected
But imagine his great surprise
When joy he had detected.

So even if we wander
To pastures lush and green
Our inheritance we may squander
But God still reigns supreme.
We can be forgiven
His hand held out to us
Grab it tight and don’t let go
And do not make a fuss.



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