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