It is so easy for funds to dry up
When life is carefree, there is never enough
But when they are gone, oft too are your friends
For riotous living requires one spends
Then, where will you go and who will you meet?
To help you get back to where you stand on your feet
Always there is our Father, of this I attest
For He knows and loves us, and wants, for us, the best
We need not compete or question His love
So tender His mercy and blessings from above
That when we repent and cry out to Him
He holds naught a bit what comes from Heaven
All that He has, He is quick to share
Even His Son, His only so rare
He would that we be holy, clean, safe and sound
The dead to yet live and the lost to be found
When he came to his father’s care
What did the prodigal son share?
All of his friends so prone to stray!
Oh, it was a delightful day!
Life is not fair
But our Father is
We’ll know His care
The Heavens are His