Favorite Son - Green Day

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?