The prodigal son doesn't want to live at home.

A tear in an orphan's eye. Who knows what an orphan's tears are like? Who knows what it's like to lose your parents? It's getting dark, and the birds in the tree are afraid of having nowhere to sleep at night. I am homeless except sighing and crying. Who knows what the tears in my eyes are like? I don't know what tears are for. Who knew I was crying silently for you, prodigal son? Don't hesitate any longer. Don't hesitate to cherish the future.