Lletres: Green Day. Favorite Son.

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?