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 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 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.
