Happiness Is A Warm Gun lyrics by The Beatles
She's not a girl whomisses much
Doo doo doo doo doo doo
doo doo
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~coloured 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 Nation 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
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
oh yeah
When I hold you in my arms
and I feel my finger on your trigger
I know no one
can do me no harm
Is a warm gun, oh yeah
Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm
Yes it is
Gun
Happiness is a warm gun
