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The Beatles |
Happiness Is A Warm Gun She’s not a girl who misses much Do do do do do do do do 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 Town 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 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 -yes it is. |
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