See black, see yellow with little notebooks drawn

See grey stripes bowling down the street

Silver streaks and T-shirts so precisely torn

Strange foreign chaps in white bed-sheets

Uniforms



See golden halo'd men of high renown

prance to the politicians beat

Well-tailored in unswerving elegance

with shoes by Gucci on their feet

Uniforms



How do you know who the hell you are?

Wake up each day under a different star

Dressed to the nines, meet yourself going home

like a clone, smartly dressed in your pressed uniform



White battle dress on green pitch, proud eleven

Beneath the swelling box so neat

the teeming millions of the future fly--

the spinning cricket ball to cheat

They're all uniform