One, two, three, won't you listen to me
Maybe I'll show you some sympathy
This is the Backstreet philosophy
You walked into the bar and the man presumed
You've got to have a packet in your blue suede shoes
Acting like Elvis, you haven't read the news
You're dead and buried, you're at the end of your fuse
(Oh, oh, oh)
(Oh, oh)
(You used to be funny)
(Now your just a joke)
(Somebody elses money)
(Going up in smoke)
Your motors stopped running, it doesn't make a sound
You couldn't meet the payments, it's locked up in the pound
Your clothes are all dirty, when they used to be clean
Everythings a nightmare, when it used to be a dream
(Oh, oh, oh)
(Oh, oh)
(You used to be funny)
(Now your just a joke)
(Somebody elses money)
(Going up in smoke)
(You used to be funny)
(Now your just a joke)
(Somebody elses money)
(Going up in smoke)
Your friend with the glasses, who always buy the round
None look's at you as is you're buried underground
The glamour's all gone, you're showing the scars
Face down in the gutter, not looking at the stars
Oh, oh, oh)
Oh, oh)
(You used to be funny)
(Now your just a joke)
(Somebody elses money)
(Going up in smoke)
(You used to be funny)
(Now your just a joke)
(Somebody elses money)
(Going up in smoke)