Prodigal sheep
Jesus, you say bring home my sheep
You say be a shepherd like perfect You
I say my sheep have gone prodigal
They have my credit card, I say resigned
At least they buy cheap wine on my dime
They’ve discovered tobacco, too
They won’t come home, I’ve tried
My mind has escaped me, I bleat
But, my body has returned to the barn
And the mind are homeless sheep
They want to go AWOL at every chance
They know my arms are not open though I try
Nevertheless, the mind and body are one
I am their pen and prodigal sheep
I am the arms closed and deserter
I am the sheep and herder
Isn’t that right, great shepherd?
Ask not what you, Jesus, can do for me
Ask what I can do for my sheep
I don't ask you to return my flock
You say, kindly woo them with contrition
Take them to the bar and pay the tab
Let them drink their fill if need be
Bring the sheep home in a cab
Leave the pen open just in case
If the sheep go prodigal again
Let them know there’s no place like home
Where else can they roam?
Jesus, I’m your lost lamb
I’m waiting at the bar
Come rescue us
Copyright © Triny Xiang | Year Posted 2024
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