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