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