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Lyrics > G - I > Green Day > Favorite Son
Favorite Son
(album: American Idiot)
He hit the ground running,
At the speed of light.
The star was brightly shining,
Like a neon light.
It´s your favorite son.
It´s your favorite son.
A fixture on the talkshows,
To the silver screen.
From here to Colorado,
He´s a sex machine.
It´s your favorite son.
It´s your favorite son.
But isn´t it a drag?
Isn´t it a drag?
Isn´t it a drag?
It´s pretty bloody sad,
but isn´t it a drag?
A clean-cut All-American,
Really ain´t so clean.
His royal auditorium,
Is a murder scene.
It´s your favorite son.
It´s your favorite son.
Oh, isn´t it a drag?
Isn´t it a drag?
Isn´t it a drag?
It´s pretty bloody sad,
but isn´t it a drag?
Well no one says it´s fair.
Turn a teenage lush,
To a millionaire.
Now where´s your fuckin´ champion?
On a bed you laid.
He´s not the All-American,
That you thought you paid.
It´s your favorite son.
It´s your favorite son.
But isn´t it a drag?
