Husband, Father

James Collins

Listen up, o my soul
Sit still, let go
These things that you’re after can’t make you whole
You’re confused, misled
Tired and restless
I think it’s time you heard some honest truths

All your work, all you attain
And all those things you call your gain
They will compound to condemn you
If the price was her pain

If you make dreams your master
Chasing after
While neglecting and forgetting your home
You’ll miss the whole point
Score an own-goal
You’ll live a half-life, waste it all away

All your work, all you attain
And all those things you call your gain
They will compound to condemn you
If the price was her pain

So now go on home
There’s nothing here for you except a lie
If you can learn to love your wife
Make her the one love of your life
Husband, father first, then all these things will come
So forget about your plans
Mop the floor and scrub some pans
Husband, father first, then all these things will come

Then all your work will be your gain
And your life won’t be in vain

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