Who said you’re dying, don’t be so daft!
We know you still can do some hard graft
Can’t you sit still an hour and lift an empty box?
Then up off your ass and pull up your socks
We don’t want shirkers and lazy sods
Here’s your application form for a hundred jobs!

Dear Mr Bereaved, we are sorry to hear
That your missus passed away but let us be clear
Her death was inevitable, sure we all must go
She could have appealed. No one was to know.
She answered all 20 questions, the reasoning was clear
So its God’s fault, not ours, that she isn’t here.

Some of the questions likely to have been asked by Atos:

Do you read the paper?
Do you live alone or with someone?
Do you have children?
Do you watch TV?
How did you get here today?
Do you do your own shopping?
How often do you see a doctor?
How often do you see a nurse?
What time do you get up?
Can you get washed?
Can you get dressed?
Do you cook?
Do you have hallucinations?
Have you ever hurt yourself?
What is 100 minus 25?
Can you spell ‘world’?
What is 96 minus 7?
Can you name the current Prime Minister? Can you name the President of the U.S.?
Do you drink alcohol?
How is your temper?
Do you listen to music?
Do you have a mobile phone?