Happiness Is A Warm Gun

           
          She's not a girl who misses much
          Do do do do do do do do
          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 multicoloured mirrors
          On his hobnail boots
          Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
          Working overtime
          A soap impression of his wife which he ate
          And donated to the Nation Trust.
          
          I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
          Down to the bits that I left uptown
          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.
          
          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
           Yes it is.
          


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