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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'
Oooh they point the cannon at you

It ain't me; it ain't me; I ain't no senator's son, no
It ain't me; it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no

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 look a like a rummage sale

It ain't me; it ain't me; I'm no millionaire's son, no
It ain't me; it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no

Yeah!
Some folks inherit star spangled eyes
Ooh, they send you down to war
And when you ask 'em, "How much should we give?"
Ooh, they only answer, "More, more, more"

It ain't me; it ain't me; I ain't no military son, son
It ain't me; it ain't me; I'm no fortunate one
It ain't me; it ain't me; I'm no fortunate one, no
It ain't me; it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate son

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Още текстове от Credence Clearwater Revival