Some Republicans are born 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,
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.