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 talk shows,
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?
Songwriters
ARMSTRONG, BILLIE JOE/WRIGHT III, FRANK EDWIN/PRITCHARD, MIKE RYANPublished by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.