Michael Woodhead


Written by Michael Woodhead
Copyright © 1969, 2017

Sometimes, I know, it's hard to ascertain
If you are alive, if you are dead
When you see them coming
The choosers of the slain
Then will come the time that you had dread

Why do you need something that's insane
As you live your life from day to day
Soon they'll come
The choosers of the slain
And you'll recall the love of yesterday

Understand, there's nothing you'd obtain
Understand, there's nothing left to fear
When they come
The choosers of the slain
They'll take you to the outer atmosphere

Though I know that Hell you do disdain
The chance is there that you might not be caught
For, it doesn't matter
The choosers of the slain
They take the persons they know that they have sought