Flanders & Swann The Chameleon
Consider the Chameleon, he colours himself and his opinions by the company he's in
In Belfast, he's an Orangeman, the shade is quite ephemeral
Directly he moves south, it fades, In Dublin, look: He's emerald
In church on Sunday he turns gold, and sings the 'love thy neighbour' hymn
Monday he's black and buys a stick, the better to belabour him
He says; 'All men are equal' when in Trinidad or Malibar
But in his green in Paddington, he shouts; 'We'll keep the colour bar'
This parti-coloured fellow, you'll find that underneath, is yellow
With Tories blue, with reds vermilion, and chequered when he meets MacMillian
That's the Chameleon. If that Chameleon were me, I'd be ashamed to sham
Each night, all white between the sheets, I'd wonder who I am
