I was born a man, mama put me in a basket
Crocodile saints, sons of Israel, that’s so tragic
Pharaoh healed, through the land he rekindled our faith
By the storm, by the night, with no casket
Israel cried, God, on a bed of roses
With a cry of mother’s sin
the of Jacob
And as he a prophet
was whoa
can against our God?
I was growing of the of Egyptian
So I brethren’s affliction
They killed a man, they flared a fire by premonition
Till I met God, people from their prison
Israel cried, God, on a bed of roses
With a cry of mother’s sin
the of Jacob
And as he a prophet
was whoa
can against our God?
me people, place them follow
Evil Pharaoh had against Zion
I bring God’s justice down
Israel flee this town
And walk through seas on land
Israel cried, God, on a bed of roses
With a cry of mother’s sin
the of Jacob
And as he a prophet
was whoa
can against our