This is the hour
Of my confession
Telling myself
Its kill or cure
And I am dressed
In gorgeous raiment
A deathbed conversion
Like any old whore
And as I kneel
In clouds of Glory
So many sins
Burnt on my tongue
Is it too late
For absolution
Will you receive
Your prodigal son
So caught between
The Book and the bottle
A swinging door
Or a promise of peace
As I genuflect
Is God in the building
And whose is the voice
That answers my prayer
Mike Crawford - Prodigal Son Lyrics
Mike Crawford - Prodigal Son Lyrics
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This is the hour
Of my confession
Telling myself
Its kill or cure
And I am dressed
In gorgeous raiment
A deathbed conversion
Like any old whore
And as I kneel
In clouds of Glory
So many sins
Burnt on my tongue
Is it too late
For absolution
Will you receive
Your prodigal son
So caught between
The Book and the bottle
A swinging door
Or a promise of peace
As I genuflect
Is God in the building
And whose is the voice
That answers my prayer
Of my confession
Telling myself
Its kill or cure
And I am dressed
In gorgeous raiment
A deathbed conversion
Like any old whore
And as I kneel
In clouds of Glory
So many sins
Burnt on my tongue
Is it too late
For absolution
Will you receive
Your prodigal son
So caught between
The Book and the bottle
A swinging door
Or a promise of peace
As I genuflect
Is God in the building
And whose is the voice
That answers my prayer
Writer: Michael Crawford
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid