Accept our rule and stop this hue and cry
Some loved ones have to go before their time
It’s just the weak and sick and old who’ll die
We have a theory here to justify
Our nudging unit thinks it’s just sublime
Accept our rule and stop this hue and cry
No need to test or rest or notify
Our British stock is mostly in its prime
It’s just the weak and sick and old who’ll die
Forget your fragile neighbours and apply
Survival-of-the-fittest paradigm
Accept our rule and stop this hue and cry
No need to stockpile meds or panic-buy
Though stocks go down as virus figures climb
It’s just the weak and sick and old who’ll die
If you’re not young and fit you’re by-the-by
Bring out your dead and sound the sorrow chime
Accept our rule and stop this hue and cry
It’s just the weak and sick and old who’ll die
