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