Oh can't you feel the nostalgia wonder about ya   Modernistocrat Horatio Alger   Clever never hesitating in the baiting ever waiting   For the canticle of manacles abating   Do you ever forget, you had a regret, and what you only guessed at   Might still be waiting?      When the prodigal son with a caroming shadow of hate comes to land at home   Well he's a mourning star with a champagne heart at his curtain call   And father never understood the way the work is done   Don't look at me, no I ain't one, no prodigal son   Don't look at me, no I ain't one, no prodigal son      When everybody about, is read to bout you, about controversial values   Don't you think you better readdress the level of the cowardice rising to drown you?   Did you ever connect, or come to reject, or even inspect   The dreams that hound you?      When the prodigal son with a caroming shadow of hate comes to land at home   Well he's a mourning star with a champagne heart at his curtain call   And father never understood the way the work is done.   Don't look at me, no I ain't one, no prodigal son   Don't look at me, no I ain't one, no prodigal son      When you least expect it he's going to run   Like the blood red path of the western sun, oh yeah.   The prodigal son is waiting, waiting for his moment to come      Well hell no, don't look at me   Can't you see? I ain't one, no prodigal son   It ain't me no I ain't one, no prodigal son