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 multi-colored mirrors On his hob-nailed boots Lying with his eyes while his hands Working over time A soap impression of his wife which he ate And donated to the nation's trust I need a fix cause I'm going down Down to the *itch that I left uptown I need a fix cause I'm going down Mother superior jumped the gun Mother superior jumped 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 that nobody can do me no harm Happiness is a warm gun, mama Happiness is a warm gun
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