Happiness Is A Warm Gun by the Beatles

Here's to happiness!

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 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
Happiness is a warm gun (bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun (bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
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 (bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Yes it is.