Fortunate Son – Creedence Clearwater

G                    F
Some folks are born made to wave the flag,
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ooh, they're red, white and blue.
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And when the band plays "Hail to the chief"
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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.
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It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no fortunate one.

G                      F  
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,
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Lord, don't they help themselves.
G                      F
But when the tax man comes to the door:
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"Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale."

G              D7             C7                G
It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no millionaire's son.
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It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no fortunate one.

(G  Gdim  C G)

G                     F
Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,
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ooh, they send you down to war.
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And when you ask them: "How much should we give?"
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Oh, they only answer: "More, more, more"

G              D7              C7                G
It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no military's son.
G              D7              C7                G
It ain't me, it ain't me, I'm no fortunate one.