I was reading in New Zealand about Ian Smith I was thinking they were lucky to be rid of that shit The people here can still believe in stiff lips and stiff collars They're speaking deals in English But they're making deals in dollars They're breaking up an empire Nobody's buying British They're calling for an umpire Nobody's playing cricket The flags are coming down, everybody stands saluting Somewhere in the distance, I can hear somebody shooting And another piece of red left my atlas today Yeah, it's so long Hong Kong, and no more Singapore Those steaming nights of Malta Goodbye, Gibraltar I'll give you arms for Africa I'm hungry for India The sun sets on Australia And vive le Canada They're breaking up an empire Nobody's buying British Calling for an umpire It really isn't cricket The flags are coming down There's a minimum of looting Somewhere in the distance I can see somebody shooting And another piece of red left my atlas today Yeah, another piece of red left my atlas today