This song was taught to my father by his mother in Tennessee, and he used to sing it to my six siblings and I when we were kids, especially on long trips (Dad was in the Army). I always forget the same two lines, which I will enclose in parentheses - I think I remember the first one, and will put asterisks on the second. My brother knows them, and I have asked him to help me. Must have a mental block for those two, as they are the same ones I forget every time. Don't know where it came from, but this was the traditional version in our family - I think my grandmother learned it from her father, or his mother. We still sing it when we all get together - last time was my niece's wedding in Oct 2011. BTW, Dad knew about Moody and Sankey, but he said his mother always sang it as "Moody and Sanctity" - I guess she felt it went better with "sanctimonious".


The Prodigal Son

There was an old man and he had two sons,
He did, he did.
He lived on the farm so the story goes,
He did, he did.
He lived by the Moody and the Sanctity Plan*
Right next to the New Jerusa-lam
And the situation don't matter a damn,
Sing tra-la-la-la-la-day.

Now the older son was goodly man,
He was, he was.
He lived by the Moody and the Sanctity Plan,
He did, he did.
He wore his sanctimonious face,
And he spoke of love and undying grace,
And he hoped for a home in that heavenly place,
Sing tra-la-la-la-la-day.

Now the younger son was a son-of-a-gun,
He was, he was.
He'd shuffle them cards and he'd play for money,
He would, he would.
He wore red socks and a high-standing collar,
Get out with the boys, get full, and holler,
Oh, he's a reg'lar jim-dandy-dollar,
Sing tra-la-la-la-la-day.

To divide on the square, he did his best,
He did, he did.
So the younger son took his share and went out West,
He did, he did.
Fell in with boys and had a good time,
Woke up the next mornin' without a dime,
Stranded in some foreign clime,
Sing tra-la-la-la-la-day.

Now the old man's purse was long and fat,
It was, it was.
And the Prodigal, y'all know, was onto that,
He was, he was.
So he, bein' used to a knock-down fate,
Took off his suspenders and put on his skates,
And headed home like a Limited freight,
Sing tra-la-la-la-la-day.

(Now the older son was out on the farm,
He was, he was.
****************
***,***)
And the old man said, "Bring in the fatted calf,
And kill him now, and begin to laugh,
For the son of night has come to light,
Sing tra-la-la-la-la-day.

Now this is my story, all well told,
It is, it is.
I've gone as far as the parable goes,
I have, I have.
I don't know what became of Pa,
But the older son is drivin' a car,
While the younger son is tendin' bar,
Sing tra-la-la-la-la-day.

Shave and a haircut, two bits.