Some folks are born made to wave that flag

Ooh that red, white 'n blue

And when they play 'Hail to the Chief'

Oh, they point the cannon at you, lord

I ain't no millionaire's son

Some folks are born, silver spoon in hand

Lord, don't they help themselves?

And when the tax man knocks on their door

Oh, the house looks like a rummage sale, yeah

I ain't no CIA's son

Some folks are born star-spangled eyes

Ooh, they send you out to war

And when you ask them, 'How much should we give?'

Ooh, they just ask for more and more and more and more and

I'm no law man's son

I'm no fortunate son, no no no

I'm not giving up though, no no no

I'm no fortunate son, no no