I Carry Their Cross, But I Walk My Own Road

I carved their names in wood and stone, I bowed my head, I stood alone. But the dirt can’t chain the breath I hold, I carry their cross, but not their cold.

I carry their cross, but I walk my own road, Through the burning sun, through the heavy load. The grave took their bodies, but not my song, I’ll keep on riding, I’ll keep it strong. I carry their cross, but I walk my own road.

The reaper waits where the shadows hide, He calls my name, but I won’t abide. For every soul that the earth has sown, I’ll ride this dust till the seeds have grown.

I carry their cross, but I walk my own road, With their fire in my chest, not a burden owed. The stones may rest, the bells may toll, But the living’s breath still feeds my soul. I carry their cross, but I walk my own road.

I ain’t their silence, I ain’t their ground, My boots still beat, my heart still pounds. The earth can keep what it has known, But I’ll ride on, I ride alone.

I carry their cross, but I walk my own road, Through the darkened sky, through the heavy load. Their names may fade, but I won’t fold, The living burn, the dead grow cold. I carry their cross, but I walk my own road.

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