Prodigal Son – Bad Religion – letras

Oh can’t you feel the nostalgia son I wonder about yaModernistocrat Horatio AlgerClever never hesitating in the baiting ever waitingFor the canticle of manacles abatingDo you ever forget – you had a regret – and what you only guessed atMight still be waiting?When the prodigal son with a caroming shadow of hate comes to landat homeWell he’s a mourning star with a champagne heart at his curtain callAnd father never understood just how the work gets doneDon’t look at me, no I ain’t one, no prodigal sonDon’t look at me, no I ain’t one, no prodigal sonWhen everybody about – is read to bout you – about controversialvaluesDon’t you think you better readdress the level of the cowardicerising to drown youDid you ever connect – or come to reject – or even inspectThat dream that hounds youWhen the prodigal son with a caroming shadow of hate comes to landat homeWell he’s a mourning star with a champagne heart at his curtain callAnd father never understood just how the work gets doneDon’t look at me, no I ain’t one, no prodigal sonDon’t look at me, no I ain’t one, no prodigal sonWhen you least expect it he’s going to runLike the blood red path of the western sun oh yeahThe prodigal son is waiting, waiting for his moment to comeWell hell no, don’t look at meCan’t you see, I ain’t one, no prodigal sonDon’t look at me, no I ain’t one, no prodigal son