text: The way to my fathers house when I was just a boy
  Lay through fields of innocence near bubbling springs of joy
  And when Id lay me down to sleep
  Id pray the lord my soul to keep
  The road was never very steep
  On the way to my fathers house
  The way to my fathers house when I turned seventeen
  Wandered through inviting hills beside a tumbling stream
  Sometimes in prayer upon my knees
  I would feel a distant breeze
  The road was winding now through trees
  On the way to my fathers house
  The way to my fathers house at the age of twenty-nine
  Led over a mountain that I would seldom climb
  Except in times of great despair when Id be looking everywhere
  And then one morning he was there
  On the way to my fathers house
  And glory, what a refreshing story
  I was so blind before he opened my eyes restoring me to
  The way to my fathers house at the age of thirty-one
  Was a ride on a rainbow my new life had begun
  And every evening I could look through the pages of his book
  And recognize the paths I took on the way, on the way...
  I go to my fathers house in these troubled days
  The spirit is moving in mysterious ways
  Reminded when old doubts appear
  That perfect love casts out all fear
  In thanks I tend the garden here, on the way
  On the way
  On the way to my fathers house