Fortunate Son (Bayou Cut 1970) Long Version

[Long swampy riff + distant thunder + protest crowd noise, 0:00–0:50] [Verse 1 – barking, furious, 0:50] Two hundred million guns are loaded Satan’s sitting there, he’s smiling They sent your boy to die in jungles While the rich man’s son is hiding [Pre-Chorus – rising rage] Hear the voices on the TV Telling lies in perfect time [Chorus – full-throat scream, gang shouts, 1:50] Fortunate son – ain’t no senator’s child Fortunate son – born with a silver spoon in his mouth Fortunate son – while we bleed in the mud It ain’t me, it ain’t me – I ain’t no fortunate son! [Extended greasy guitar + harmonica duel – 1:50 long, 2:40–4:30] [Verse 2 – even angrier, 4:30] They tax the poor until they’re broken Send the working man to war Then they wave their flag and tell us “We’re fighting for the poor” [Bridge – spoken over marching drums + protest chants, 5:20] Some folks are born made to wave the flag But when the bullets start to fly They’re the first to run and hide behind their walls [Final Chorus – key up, total fury, gang screaming, 6:00] Fortunate son – ain’t no millionaire’s kid Fortunate son – while the body bags come home Fortunate son – you can keep your fucking throne It ain’t me, it ain’t me – I ain’t no fortunate one – NO! [Final swamp jam – riff loops, harmonica wails, crowd chants “Hell no, we won’t go!”, 6:40–end] (everything gets dirtier, drums speed up slightly, tape warble, total chaos) [Outro – riff slows to crawl → thunderstorm + distant helicopter → tape runs out, 8:00] Fortunate son… fortunate son… Hell no… hell no… (fade into swamp)