Midst misty mountains moans
A poor soul doomed to roam
The life he lived was more like death
So after life he was given breath
His task to guide the wayward son
Back to the love where he'd begun
Until this lesson had been learned
That the angry God whom he had spurned
Had loved him through every fall
And wanted him to heed the call
Of a father whose hope was great
That his son might choose a different fate