Andrew Peterson Follow

was a boy, just nine years old, I heard the call and came. They buried me beneath the water, then I rose again. Well, you know my dad was a preacher man. I walked the aisle and I took his hand. He said, “Son, just do the best you can, and say the words, ‘I believe he is the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
Through the years I barely fell; I mostly dove right in. I drank so deep from the shallow well only to thirst again. Well, I sang the hymns at the summer camp, then I rocked and rolled with a lousy band till I heard a song that took my hand and led me home. And I believe he is the Christ, Son of the living God.
All I know is that I was blind but now I see that though I kick and scream, Love is leading me. And every step of the way his grace is making me; with every breath I breathe, he is saving me. And I believe.
So when my body’s weak and the day is long, when I feel my faith is all but gone, I’ll remember when I sing this song that I believe. I believe he is the Christ, Son of the living God, my Lord, my Savior. Oh, hosanna, I believe.