Happiness Is A Warm Gun
She's not a girl who misses much
Do-do-do, oh yeah
She's well acquainted
With the touch of a velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane
Man in the crowd
With the multicoloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes
While his hands are busy
Working overtime
The sole confession of his wife
Which he ate and donated to the
National Trust
I need a fix cause I'm going down
Down to the abyss that I've 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
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
(Bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Josephine, do you think you are going bald?
No. You've asked me that before and the answer was no then.