| He was born far away from home
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| In a troubled place in a distant land
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| He was guided by a reason as he searched for the truth
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| Questioning life as he tried to understand
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| Just who he was
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| Discipled by philosophy
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| A dead end street with no way through
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| Trusting education as the key to his soul
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| But the room that it opened held no clue
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| To who he was
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| And the Wayward Son kept looking
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| For a path to lead him home
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| A new age revelation to give him hope
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| And the Wayward Son kept learning
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| But the wisdom never came
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| And he searched for years to find out
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| Who he was
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| At forty he was born again
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| In a peaceful place in a familiar land
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| Sheltered by a grace God revealed His truth
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| And day by day he grew to comprehend
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| Just who he was
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| Refashioned by the hand of love
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| In the image of God’s only son
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| He was freed from the fall with the curse in
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| The dust
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| In Christ he found the essence
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| Of just who he was
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| And the Wayward Son stopped looking
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| For a path to lead him home
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| He received a revelation that gave him hope
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| And the Wayward Son stopped yearning
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| For the wisdom of the wind
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| And he began to find out
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| Who he was
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| As a newborn son I’m walking
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| On the path that leads me home
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| You know the spirit’s revelation gives me hope
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| As a newborn son I’m growing
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| In the wisdom of God’s plan
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| I must lose myself to find out
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| Who I am
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| I am no longer the Wayward Son |