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The Thing About This Road

Broken and repentant, the boy makes the long trip back to his father’s house.
some words...
The thing about this road that I am travelling alone
It's not the heat, it's not the dust or flies
It's not the hunger in my bones, my bleeding feet
from these sharp stones
Oh no, it's none of that
Oh no, not even close
Oh no, it's none of that at all

The thing about this road that I am travelling alone
Is it gives you time to stop and think.
Take a bite of humble pie; it's a bitter pill, no alibi
Oh no, I see my father's face
Oh no, as I turned away
Oh no, what have I become

'Cos I thought that I knew, the end from the beginning
When I woke up the next morning I found that my head was spinning
Round and round

The thing about this road that I am travelling alone
is that it will soon come to an end
I recognise these broken hills, my childhood haunts are standing still
Oh no, some if it was mine
Oh no, in the family line
Oh no, now I'm coming back as a slave
...and their inspiration
Luke 15:20a

So he returned home to his father
 
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