I look through my book every day at 5 o’clock

And I try to pick my prey

Maybe the one with the heart condition

Maybe the one that is loved

Maybe the one with the tumor

Maybe the one that is far too young

I am the bringer of doom

And the dread of the night

But I make she you go

Quick and silent

(Well, most of the time)

Am I a monster

For taking people’s lives?

Am I a monster

For loving the sound of women crying?

Does that make me evil

For doing my job?

I review by book at 8 o’clock each evening

I cross off names one by one

I never attend the funerals

That wasn’t in the job description

Sometimes I pick my prey for the next time

I try to aim for the morning

But they die in the night

I look through my book every day at 5 o’clock

Maybe the one that deserves to die