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
multicolored mirror 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 uptown
I need a fix cause I’m going down
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun

Happiness is a warm gun

When I hold you in my arms
and I feel my finger on you trigger
I know nobody can do no harm
Because Happiness is a warm gun