Lincoln Durham - Exodus of the Deemed Unrighteous

Ballad of a Prodigal Son

Father don't you recognize your own kin?
It's been a lifetime, or maybe two
My hair is longer, and my face drawn thin
From years of searchin' for the truth

Whoa
In the valley of the bones
Whoa
They're gonna rise up and head on home

We all wander through this shattered old world
Gettin' more glass in our feet
Leavin' bloody tracks everywhere we turn
Like a morbid hide-and-go-seek

Whoa
In the valley of the bones
Whoa
They're gonna rise up and head on home

Two plus two ain't always four
And sometimes black ends up white
And there's a million shades of gray in between
When you manage to shed a little light

Whoa
In the valley of the bones
Whoa
They're gonna rise up and head on home

I've been in every patchwork revival tent from here to yon
So brothers don't you recognize your own kin?
I have returned like a prodigal son

Credits
Writer(s): Lincoln Durham
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