Mrs E Roosevelt never heard me shoot my gun Mrs E Roosevelt didn't even know I owned one Somewhere between the cobbled stone floor and the slated wooden ceiling Cuddling my semi automatic What a very fuzzy feeling Ohhhwowohhh there's nothing Like emptying a cartridge at the sun
Uh-merica Uh-merica Uh-merica Uh-merica There's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun
Oh we're born alone and then we're covered with our mothers kisses The mind has already forgot what the body still misses Somewhere between the sticky floor and the cracks in the ceiling Cuddling my semi automatic what a very fuzzy feeling Ohhhwowohhh there's nothing Like emptying a cartridge at the sun
Uh-merica Uh-merica Uh-merica Uhmerica There's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun Uh-merica Uh-merica Uh-merica Uhmerica There's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun