She's not a girl who misses much
Do do 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 which he made of his wife
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, mama
When I hold you in my arms, oooooh yeah
And I feel my fingers all over your oil fields, oooooh yeah
I know no one's lesson is gonna hurt me, oooooh yeah
Because happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun
Don't you know that happiness is a warm gun?
Yes it is, baby

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