She's not a girl who misses much, 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 mulitcoloured 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 up tow-hown
I need a fix 'cause I'm going down

Mother Superior jumped the gun
Mother Superior jumped the gun
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 no one can do me no harm
Because, happiness is a warm gun (bang bang, shoot shoot)
Happiness is a warm -Yes it is - Gun..........