The Beatles Happiness Is A Warm Gun Lyrics

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 multicolored 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 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, bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun, momma. (Happiness, bang, bang, shoot, shoot)

When I hold you in my arms, (oo-oo, oh, yeah!)
And I feel my finger on your trigger, (oo-oo, oh, yeah!)
I know nobody can do me no harm, (oo-oo, oh, yeah!)
Because (Happiness,) is a warm gun, momma. (bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun-Yes it is. (Happiness, bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm, yes it is...
Gun! (Happiness, bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Well don't ya know that happiness is a warm gun, momma?
(Happiness, is a warm gun, yeah!)