INTRO I carry the cross if my pregnant lady had an abortion I'd still be carried amid poverty or wealth and fortune VERSES 1 Death before my first was born I'm heavily scarred Empty arms, felt not any warmth of my second Angry for months with the baby moms No chance to mourn, or send them off, sadly they gone Be hand of God, early abort or miscarry the cross Fought tirelessly in her defense, as she thought mindlessly Lost in time as if it ain't my choice, sought quietly Walked silently, took it on the chin like Shawn Michael's kick Adopted decidedly the life of more sobriety Murder she wrote privately, it's alright in this odd society Photos shown surprisingly, sonar inside of which we lived Died more than once, it isn't as the mortal was First words of the aborted ones, slipped off the prophet's tongue It broke mine and Flora's heart, couldn't process immoral such But harnessed love I was taught as the youngest Goddess son Man remained fruitless though he laid in his seed Fathered any if her kids though the daddy exist Daily I plead, may this baby exit The lady disagreed, I'm gravely aggrieved Left me in a blurry abyss Awaiting Him since, the savior redeems HOOK I carry the cross if my pregnant lady had an abortion I'd still be carried amid poverty or wealth and fortune VERSE 2 Mourn your life though I may have not carried you Go on your site, though I may have not buried you How is life and death treated, if my exes can see that Apple of my blinking eye, accessed the secrets Thus the planet of breeding, excessively seedless Carries the burden of grieving, each second he seeketh Cursed or as gifted Blame the serpent or Eden Were Adam and Even were needy and longing once Now just as guilty and lonely ones What we store in heart makes Stoney hard We get close enough 'til none opens up Grow in love to outgrow the love Thought all was in alignment Now what can Lucifer and his Ally mend Never saw them alive man, their death I lament Grieve not knowing what Allah meant What goes around as clocks sure comes around as applause Drowned in shock How sound and warm Flora's words I counted on Heavy is the head that wears the crown of thorns Doubting Thom, seen how it was nailed to the mounted cross What hurts is truth as lies proof Blessed was the fruits of thy womb Cursed is my roots or thy tomb HOOK I carry the cross if my pregnant lady had an abortion I'd still be carried amid poverty or wealth and fortune