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I was a boy, |
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Just nine years old, |
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I heard the call and came. |
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They buried me |
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Beneath the water, |
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Then I rose again. |
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Well, you know my dad was a preacher man. |
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I walked the aisle and I took his hand. |
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He said, "Son, just do the best you can, |
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And say the words, |
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'I believe he is the Christ, the Son of the living God.'" |
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Through the years |
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I barely fell; |
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I mostly dove right in. |
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I drank so deep |
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From the shallow well |
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Only to thirst again. |
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Well, I sang the hymns at the summer camp, |
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Then I rocked and rolled with a lousy band |
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Till I heard a song that took my hand |
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And led me home. |
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CHORUS X2 |
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And I believe |
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He is the Christ, |
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Son of the living God. |
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All I know is that I was blind |
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But now I see |
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That though I kick and scream, |
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Love is leading me. |
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And every step of the way |
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His grace is making me; |
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With every breath I breathe, |
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He is saving me. |
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And I believe. |
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So when my body's weak and the day is long, |
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When I feel my faith is all but gone, |
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I'll remember when I sing this song |
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That I believe. |
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CHORUS X5 |
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My Lord, My Savior |
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My Lord, My Savior |
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Oh, Hosanna, I believe. |
