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 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
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
Happiness is a warm , Yes it is gun, Because happiness is a warm gun, yeah.