Lyrics

THE PRODIGAL SON - Words and Music by WANITA

I left my home a young girl, out to explore the world
I set aside the good Lord t o go in search of wealth
I headed straight for city lights I loved that neon appeal
Screaming bars and foggy nights and going without meals

A voice always reminding me, tapping my thundering head
It sounded so much like Jesus saying please come home instead
Ignoring his persuasion, ‘till all I had was gone
Doin tricks in dingy motel rooms until the break of dawn.

Then one day it changed for good I knew I could go home
One morning scouring streets for bumpers, I heard a pastor warn
The sermon told of a prodigal son who left his bereaved dad
He went and squandered everything his dear old father had.

I entered that big old wooden door, something anointed my head
The congregation acknowledged me within a prayer they said
I tried in vain to compose myself, stashing away my beer
Discarding stubbed out cigarettes within my underwear.

I looked at them then looked at me but somehow didn’t care
That heels and fishnet stockings was something I shouldn’t wear
I slipped into a back row pew to get myself a seat
I sat down and loudly wept consumed by my defeat.

He continued with his sermon, what a history to behold
As I fiddled with my mini skirt his eyes didn’t scold
Graciously he engaged the isle, finally he got to me
Beckoned to my trembling hands for everyone to see.

I shuffled out too drunk to stand, so I fell on bended knee.
Said can anyone beg forgiveness here, everyone answered me
Again I glanced at all of them, now we all looked the same
My attiring not so shabby, my thoughts less insane
I know now I didn’t walk to far to finally get back home.

… My pimp was just down the street, instead I called my Mum.