The setting sun on Uluru, A mother's whispered "I love you," A winning goal in extra time, It was his idea. A friend to hold you in your grief, A shooting star, a coral reef, That beautiful discovery, It was his idea. It was his idea. He's the reason that we're here. Jesus got his fingerprints On everything that's good. The tender touch of skin on skin, The oxygen we're breathing in, The song, the dance, the work of art, It was his idea. The hunger inside me and you, That longs for grace and justice too, Mercy by another's blood, Well, that was his idea. It was his idea. He's the reason that we're here. Jesus got his fingerprints On everything that's good. Not chasing mist, not playing chance Not buying empty circumstance, When every atom, every cell Screams "It was his idea!" It was his idea. He's the reason that we're here. Jesus got his fingerprints On everything that's good. It was his idea. He's the reason that we're here. Jesus got his fingerprints On everything that's good. You say we're meat; we live, we die, There is no truth, that God's a lie. But one day every tongue will cry That it was his idea.