Death’s Administrative Nightmare

Climate change is an administrative nightmare
In the offices of death
I have to file a form for every single human
There's spreadsheets of each dead insect

But grim reaper management denied our request
to put project climate on hold
We had to protect shareholder interests
By meeting our quota of souls

Climate change is an administrative nightmare
In the offices of death
I cried when I missed my Little Grimlings' science fair
Ms Grim thinks I might be depressed

So we formed a reaper trade union
To make sure our whispers were heard
But the change fell short of a revolution
We just got a scheme for cycling to work

So we took control of the lake of souls
We do the scything we know how it works
Got rid of manager roles
Set new business goals
So the afterlife would have to put life first

Climate change is an administrative nightmare
But there's a way out of this hell
If you support the system that's soulless and unfair
You'll soon hear the toll of my bell