There was this certain man
 His mouth was awful vile,
He'd curse and blaspheme God
 And never crack a smile.

He had a vicious disposition
 He was hated by everyone,
One night his father lay dying
 And begged to see his son.

They said, "He's at the tavern
 No doubt in a drunken stew
But, if we can find him
 We'll bring him back to you".

They found him in a bar, his eyes red,
 His color an ashen gray,
They told him of his father
 How upon his dying bed he lay.

Love overcame the need for wine
 At his father's bed he knelt,
He was at a loss for tender words,
 Only God knew how he felt.

He knelt beside his father's bed
 He knew not how to pray,
He held his father's hand in his
 And cried till break of day.At last love melted his hardened heart
 And he began to pray,
He struggled for words, he searched
 For the things he had to say.

"I'm just a no good drunken sot,
 Just a useless clod,
But I have a confession to make
 If you'll listen to me, God.

My father taught me right
 T'was I who went astray,
But I still love my dear, old dad,
 That's why I'm here today.

I know I've had him all these years
 And failed him miserably,
But, God, if you can, would you
 Leave him here with me?

If it's not your will
 And tonight he must depart,
I want you to know, dear God,
 He left his mark on this old drunkard's heart.

Now, God, if you'll forgive
 This drunken sinner's past,
Perhaps by Your forgiving grace
 I'll make Heaven's pearly gate at last".

The father squeezed his son's strong hand
       And quietly took his flight,
            And God welcomed a newborn Soul beside
       His father's bed that night.
 

                                             Carl L. Hempen, 1978