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 Mother Superior jump the gun Mother Superior jump the gun
Happiness is a warm gun Happiness is a warm gun Happiness is a warm gun Happiness is a warm gun Happiness is a warm gun mama
