Happiness Is a Warm Gun

she's not a girl who misses much
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 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 because i'm going down
down to the bits that i left uptown
i need a fix because 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

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