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 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 National 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, mama,
When I hold you in my arms
And I feel my finger on you trigger
I know nobody can do me no harm
Because happiness is a warm gun,
Happiness is a warm gun, mama...
 - Yes it is.