Happiness Is The Warm Gun – The Beatles

She’s not a girl who misses much.
Do do do do do do do Oh yeah!
She’s well acquainted with touch of the velvet hand like a lizard on a window
pane.

The man in the crowd with multicolored mirrors on his hobnail boots,
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime.
A soap impression of his wife which heate and donated to the National 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,
Happiness is a warm gun.