Fortunate Son

G F Some folks are born made to wave the flag, C7 G ooh, they're red, white and blue. G F And when the band plays "Hail to the chief" C7 G they point the cannon right at you. G D7 C7 G It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no senator's son. G D7 C7 G It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm 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." G D7 C7 G It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no senator's son. G D7 C7 G It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no fortunate one. G Gdim C G Some folks inherit star spangled eyes, ooh, they send you down to war. And when you ask them: "How much should we give?" Oh, they only answer: "More, more, more" G D7 C7 G It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no senator's son. G D7 C7 G It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no fortunate one.