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
multicolored mirror 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 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 no harm
Because Happiness is a warm gun mama
Happiness is a warm gun, yes it is
Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun