Uh-Merica - Ver 2

E F Mrs. E Roosevelt never heard me shoot my gun, la, la, la E F Mrs. E Roosevelt didn't even know I owned one la, la, la C Somewhere between the cobblestone floor G and the slated wooden ceiling la, la, la Am E Cuddling my semi-automatic, what a very fuzzy feeling la la la F C E E Am Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun C G Uh-merica, Uh-merica Am E Uh-merica, Uh- merica F C E E Am 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