She's not a girl
Who misses much
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 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
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot
Happiness is a warm gun, mama
Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot
When I hold you in my arms
And I feel my finger on your trigger
I know nobody can do me no harm
Because
Happiness is a warm gun, mama
Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot
Happiness is a warm gun, yes it is
Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot
Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun
Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot
Well, don't you know that happiness
Is a warm gun, mama?
Happiness is a warm gun, yeah