Who's gonna tell the orange
   they're actually brown
   Who's gonna mop up for grey
   when they've painted the town
   It's the news that everyone dreads
   that we're no longer painting it red
   that our gag's still funny
   but they've opted for a different clown
   You were great in the sixties
   but we're gonna have to pull you down
   Nothing like the sound of the shallow
   jumping in at the deep
   Royalty's balloon coming down
   is a memorable shriek
   Nothing quite like the sickening clout
   of the dive into pool drained out
   You excelled as a Queen
   but you'll have to return the crown
   You were great in the sixties
   but we're gonna have to pull you down
   Who's gonna tell the tall
   they're beginning to shrink
   Like who's gonna tell the Swiss
   They're no longer in sync
   We'll have to get the maroon
   in a separate counselling room
   say "it may be your washer
   but you seem to be fading to pink"
   Yesterday's ice cool
   doesn't take long to melt and sink
   Who's gonna tell the cities
   that are acting like towns
   they're actually just a village
   that the posh surrounds
   The diplomatic answer
   to your 25 stone dancer
   is your act's still great
   but we can't keep changing a pound
   You were Queen in your day
   but you're gonna have to give back the crown
   You were great in the sixties
   but we're gonna have to pull you down