Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
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 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
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
I need a fix, oh yeah
I need a fix
I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun