Breeders Happiness Is A Warm Gun
She's not a girl who misses much Do-do-do, oh yeah She's well acquainted With the touch of a velvet hand Like a lizard on a window pane Man in the crowd With the multicoloured mirrors On his hobnail boots Lying with his eyes While his hands are busy Working overtime The sole confession of his wife Which he ate and donated to the National Trust I need a fix cause I'm going down Down to the abyss that I've left up town I need a fix cause I'm going down Mother Superior jumped the gun *6 Happiness is a warm gun *4 (Bang, bang, shoot, shoot) Some guy: Josephine, do you think you are going bald? Josephine: No. You've asked me that before and the answer was no then.
