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