Prodigal's Son
Take me home tonight, I'm done
If home's still open to the prodigals son [x2]
I know I've been here before,
On my knee's, at your feet, on the floor,
I come unworthy, unclean, and dirty,
Unsure if you'll take me back anymore
Take me home tonight, I'm done
If home's still open to the prodigals son [x2]
I've been so empty and so much in need,
Humiliated, and dying to eat
I've come to my senses, can I come home?
I can't imagine that you'd want to see me.
Take me home tonight, I'm done,
If home's still open to the prodigals son [x2]
How many robes, how many rings, can your grace afford, my father, my king?
How many times can I be raised from the dead? How many times can I be lost and found again?
Take me home tonight, I'm done,
If home's still open to the prodigals son [x2]
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
I'm Done
I know I've been here before...
on my knee's, at your feet -- on the floor
Take me home tonight, I'm done,
If home's still open to the prodigals son
I've been writing this song for a while, but I cant seem to finish it.
It's my hurting song.
When I'm hurting internally, when I seem to be hurting people around, and worst of all, when I hurt God.
It hurts to not be able to finish it -- but its raw emotion, so maybe its meant to be a raw, unfinished thing itself.
And when you hurt God, when you hurt other people, when you just hurt this bad, you start to wonder if you can ever be loved and accepted... this song is rhetorical, because I know that you definately can be loved and accepted...
...but that's not what you know when you feel like this.
Because sometimes your feelings make you know something very different than the truth of the matter.
Sometimes, they make you feel only the truth of the feeling itself.
I know I've been here before...
on my knee's, at your feet -- on the floor
Take me home tonight, I'm done,
If home's still open to the prodigals son
Sometimes I want to equate love with hurt.
But I dont think I can equate hurt with God -- at least not in the sense that He causes it.
on my knee's, at your feet -- on the floor
Take me home tonight, I'm done,
If home's still open to the prodigals son
I've been writing this song for a while, but I cant seem to finish it.
It's my hurting song.
When I'm hurting internally, when I seem to be hurting people around, and worst of all, when I hurt God.
It hurts to not be able to finish it -- but its raw emotion, so maybe its meant to be a raw, unfinished thing itself.
And when you hurt God, when you hurt other people, when you just hurt this bad, you start to wonder if you can ever be loved and accepted... this song is rhetorical, because I know that you definately can be loved and accepted...
...but that's not what you know when you feel like this.
Because sometimes your feelings make you know something very different than the truth of the matter.
Sometimes, they make you feel only the truth of the feeling itself.
I know I've been here before...
on my knee's, at your feet -- on the floor
Take me home tonight, I'm done,
If home's still open to the prodigals son
Sometimes I want to equate love with hurt.
But I dont think I can equate hurt with God -- at least not in the sense that He causes it.
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