HAPPINESS IS A WARM GUN lyrics
by Gilby Clarke



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
multi-colored mirrors On his hobnail boots

Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
working overtime A soap inpression 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

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 - Yes it is