There's a story that started on Christmas When a baby was born in the night And those who came far, who followed the star Were seeing a heavenly sight ... a heavenly sight.
Well the years hurried by, and the boy, now a man Could make the blind see with a touch of his hand He was born to be King -- he was Rabbi and Priest But the best that he had, he gave to the least ... He gave to the least.
He was born and he died, almost 2,000 years ago He laughed and he cried, he felt all the fears we know But what does it matter? A story so strange ... Even if it is true, what does it change? What does it change?
Well he spoke like a prophet -- like no one they'd heard This simple young carpenter -- crowds hung on every word He hated injustice -- He taught what is right He said "I'm the way, and the truth, and the light."
His friends soon believed that truly he was the one. The Savior, Messiah, God's one and only son. But others, they doubted, they did not agree So they took him, they tried him, He died on a tree ... He died on a tree.
God has made a way for all who mourn and grieve Death will never be the end if you just believe.
There is nothing left to fear nothing Heaven knows For he died for us to give us life and to give us hope He rose He died for us to give us life And to give us hope He rose.