Happiness Is A Warm Gun

She's not a girl who misses much,

Do do do do do do do Oh yeah

She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand

Like a lizard on a window pane

The man in the crowd with the multicolored mirrors on his hob-nail boots

Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working over-time

A soap impression of his wife which he ate and donated to the National Trust

I need a fix 'cause I'm going down

Down to the bits I left up town

I need a fix 'cause I'm going down

Mother Superior jump the gun - Mother Superior jump the gun

Mother Superior jump the gun - Mother Superior jump the gun

Mother Superior jump the gun - Mother Superior jump the gun

Happiness is a warm gun

Happiness is a warm gun

When I hold you in my arms

And I feel my finger on your trigger

I know no-one can do me no harm because:

Happiness is a warm gun

Happiness is a warm gun

Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun!