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!