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Happiness Is A Warm Gun - Lyrics by Tori Amos


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.


Happiness is a warm gun
(bang, bang, shoot shoot)

Happiness is a warm gun

When I hold you in my arms

And I feel my finger on your trigger
I know nobody can do me no harm

Because happiness is a warm gun.

Yes it is.