Creedence Clearwater Revival - Fortunate Son

"Fortunate Son" by Creedence Clearwater Revival is a defiant anthem that became an emblematic protest song during the Vietnam War era. Released in 1969, the song's lyrics criticize the disparity in how privilege and wealth affected the draft during the war. John Fogerty's raw vocals and the band's gritty instrumentation drive home the message of frustration and disillusionment with the system.

The song's iconic guitar riff and energetic rhythm section provide a powerful backdrop for its politically charged lyrics. Fogerty's impassioned delivery condemns the hypocrisy of the privileged class who could avoid military service, contrasting sharply with those who were less fortunate and forced to serve. "Fortunate Son" resonated deeply with listeners during a turbulent time in American history, becoming a rallying cry for those opposed to the war and social injustice.

Decades later, the song remains a potent critique of inequality and remains relevant in discussions about class, privilege, and the responsibilities of citizenship. Its enduring popularity and cultural impact solidify "Fortunate Son" as one of Creedence Clearwater Revival's most enduring and influential songs.

Decades later, the song remains a potent critique of inequality and remains relevant in discussions about class, privilege, and the responsibilities of citizenship. Its enduring popularity and cultural impact solidify "Fortunate Son" as one of Creedence Clearwater Revival's most enduring and influential songs.

Creedence Clearwater Revival - Fortunate Son Lyrics

Some folks are born made to wave the flag
Hoo, 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 furtunate one, no

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don't they help themselves, Lord?
But when the taxman come to the door
Lord, the house lookin' like a rummage sale, yeah

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

Yeah-yeah, some folks inherit star-spangled eyes
Hoo, they send you down to war, Lord
And when you ask 'em, "How much should we give?"
Hoo, they only answer, "More, more, more, more"

It ain't me, it ain't me
I ain't no military son, son, Lord
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
It ain't me, it ain't me...