Happiness Is A Warm Gun

[al:Anthology 3] [ar:The Beatles] [ti:Happiness Is A Warm Gun] Happiness Is A Warm Gun The Beatles 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 pain 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 Mother Superior jump the gun Happiness is a warm gun Happiness is a warm gun mama 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 mama Happiness is a warm gun, yes it is Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun Ah, don't you know that