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I walked by the tomb of Buddha,
looked inside and saw his bones.
Traveled on to see Muhammed,
still wrapped up in his grave clothes.
Then I journeyed to a garden,
where ol' Joseph left Him lay.
The Precious Lamb, God's own begotten,
was no longer in that grave.
If you knew Him like I know Him,
you would know that He's alive.
If you felt Him like I feel Him,
resurrection deep inside.
You'd know He's living,
and death has died.
If you're wandering in the darkness,
come and step into the light.
Nail-scarred hands reach out to help you,
to pull you safe from death to life.
Friend, I too have stood where you stand.
Could I trust in things unseen?
Just one step in His direction,
then in love, He ran to me.
If you knew Him like I know Him,
you would know that He's alive.
If you felt Him like I feel Him,
resurrection deep inside.
You'd know He's living,
and death has died.
You ask me how I know He lives,
He lives within my heart.
If you felt Him like I feel Him,
resurrection deep inside.
You'd know He's living,
and death has died.
Death has died.