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“So this is your yearly assessment
Pray tell how you feel you have done
Since we made you Head of Progressment
Shaping everything under the Sun.”

   “My achievements are way beyond measure
   And whilst I am not one to boast
    I’ve brought people sadness and pleasure
   And any that sin become toast.”

“We gave you eight different departments
And threw in an outlying one
Yet, it seems to me, that Department Three
Was where you had most of your fun.”

   “Listen, Guv, ‘Fun’ doesn’t cut it
   I had proper plans for that place
   And frankly I did try to shut it
   I did at least try to save face.”

“We know that it’s true that little Old Blue
has cast its spell often before
But we allocated the system to you
And thought you’d achieve rather more.”

   “Okay, I messed up, but that’s a bit harsh
   You handed me gases and dust
   Then  watched me drag men from a primeval marsh
   Yet none of you seem very fussed.”

“It’s all quite impressive, but can’t be allowed 
We have to protect our positions
These men that you speak of are now quite a crowd
And creating unpleasant conditions.”

   “You seemed to like all my volcanoes,
   My earthquakes and boulders from space
   I’ll wipe my slate clean, but I’ve had lots of goes
   And I can’t shake that darned human race.”

“Well here’s a design change on which we won’t budge
Put chopped liver between their ears
You see, Mr God, we’re not here to judge
But you can’t let them have their ideas.”

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