She's not a girl who misses much 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 multi-colored mirrors On his hobnail boots Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime A soap inpression 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 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