كلمات Uh-Merica

Mrs. E. Roosevelt never heard me shoot my gun, la, la, la Mrs. E. Roosevelt didn't even know I owned one la, la, la Somewhere between the cobblestone floor and the slated wooden ceiling la, la, la Cuddling my semi-automatic, what a very fuzzy feeling la la la Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun Uh-merica, Uh-merica Uh-merica, Uh- merica Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun. Oh we're born alone and then we're covered by m-m-m-mother's kisses The mind has already forgotten 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 Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun Uh-merica, Uh-merica Uh-merica, Uh- merica Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun One more time Uh-merica, Uh-merica Uh-merica, Uh- merica Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun la, la, la emptying a cartridge at the sun la, la, la emptying a cartridge at the sun