Strike The Root Blog

Some folks are born made to wave the flag,

Ooh, they’re red, white and blue.

And when the band plays hail to the chief,

Ooh, they point the cannon at you, lord,

It aint me, it aint me, I aint no senators son, son.

It aint me, it aint me; I aint no fortunate one, no,

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,
Lord, don’t they help themselves, oh.

But when the taxman comes to the door,

Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes,

It aint me, it aint me, I aint no millionaires son, no.

It aint me, it aint me; I aint no fortunate one, no,

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,

Ooh, they send you down to war, lord,

And when you ask them, how much should we give?

Ooh, they only answer more! more! more! yoh,

It aint me, it aint me, I aint no military son, son.

It aint me, it aint me; I aint no fortunate one, one.

It aint me, it aint me, I aint no fortunate one, no no no,

It aint me, it aint me, I aint no fortunate son, no no no,

(Taken from Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Fortunate Son,” lyrics by John Fogerty).

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 25th, 2008 at 10:10 pm and is filed under Uncategorized, war, nationalism, peace, politicians, military, Yourmerica, satire. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.