Friday, June 25, 2004

Fortunate Son in Chief

I linked to Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Fortunate Son" in the post below. But reading the lyrics again myself, I can't help but be taken aback by their relevance today. A Phoblog friend has been pointing out for more than a year now all the parallels between Iraq War era America and Vietnam War era America. I can see it too - not that I lived the first, but I can read as well as the next girl.

This song, however, as art often does, brings the point home more. It captured the times then. And I think it does a pretty damn good job of getting Now as well. Here it is:

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,
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, lord,

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

Yeah!
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,
Lord, don’t they help themselves, oh.
But when the taxman comes to the door,
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes,

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no millionaire’s son, no.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, no.

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,
Ooh, they send you down to war, lord,
And when you ask them, how much should we give?
Ooh, they only answer more! more! more! yoh,

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no military son, son.
It ain’t me, it ain’t me; I ain’t no fortunate one, one.

It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one, no no no,
It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate son, no no no

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