(From Rock Against Bush Vol. 2)

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?

[Bridge]

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?