Из альбома: Premonition
(John Fogerty)
Some folks are born
made to wave the flag,
Ooh, they're red, whit and blue
And when the band plays "Hail to the chief",
they point the cannon right at you
It ain't me,
it ain't me
I ain't no senator's son
It ain't me,
it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one
Some folks are born
silver spoon in hand,
Lord don't they help themselves
But when the tax man comes to the door,
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale
It ain't me,
it ain't me
I ain't no millionaire's son
It ain't me,
it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one
Some folks inherit
star spangled eyes,
Ooh, they send you down to war
And when you ask them,
"How much should we give?"
They only answer "More! More! More!"
It ain't me,
it ain't me
I ain't no military son
It ain't me,
it ain't me
I ain't no fortunate one
It ain't me,
it ain't me
I ain't no Fortunate Son