Happiness Is a Warm Gun

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 Nation Trust

I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
Down to the bits that I left up town
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

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 is a warm gun, yes it is
Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun

But don't you know that
happiness is a warm gun, mama

Artists: Beatles