I know a Carpenter, 
He once walked this land.
From birth they sought to end his life -
The Carpenter's son who was to mend their lives -
He sought refuge in Africa.
On his return,
He healed their sick
He raised their dead:
Work-worn Carpenter's son,
seared and scarred.
He smeared love on the big and small.

I know a carpenter once, he died,
from nail holes in his heart and side.
He bled, they scorned
He cried, they scoffed
He dangled from a wooden cross
Mediating between man and God.
And when he bowed his head
submitting to His redemptive will,
mankind earned mercy he don't merit.

I know a Carpenter, when He dies.
His hands tell a tale of pure passion, 
His say,
"I gave you life on Easter Day." 

"Then saith he to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing.  And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and my God.  Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed,"  (John 20:27- 29)