Well, it really made you out to be the next big thing on earthAnd they'll milk you till it's sour, squeeze your soul for all it's worthThe building ropes are how the jib is struggling for airBut when you come crashing down, you'll find a fan up thereJust another star, made in the usual modeFrom the cheapest plastic with promises of rulesBut as the figures fall, the promises run lostThe colors all but fade, the price will start to showWell, it ran you down the floats on a radio and TV screenJust another star, made in the usual modeAnd we'll put you on the cover of every magazineAnother Christmas number one, another month of fameBut when the spring comes calling, you'll no longer know your nameOh, your sicky sweet melodies don't guarantee you wellIt won't be long until you're with the others on the showYou're lining up the pockets, you're brightening the smileOhAnd they'll be dancing to the back while you're left on the pileAnother style of plastic, dancing to their beatSinging to their tune, meltingAnother waste of time, another shot at fameAnd all amounts to nothing, it's all a gameIt's all a gameIt's all a gameIt's all a gameIt's all a gameIt's all a gameIt's all a game