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