Happiness is a Warm Gun

Here are the lyrics to one of my favorite Beatles songs. It's odd, but you can make it through.

She's not a girl... Who misses much... Doo do do do do do! Oh, yeah...
She's well acquainted with a touch of the velvet hand, like a lizard on a window pane!
Man in the crowd with the multi-colored mirrors on his hop-nail boots.
Lyin' 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 goin' do-o-own. Down to the bits that I left up to-own!
I need a fix, 'cause I'm goin' do-o-own.

Mother superior jump the gu-u-un!
Mother superior jump the gu-u-un.
Mother superior jump the gu-u-un!
Mother superior jump the gu-u-un.

Happiness! Is a warm gun!
Happine-e-ess! Is a warm gun, yes it is.

When I hold you...
In my arms...
When I feel your finger on my trigger.
Well, don't you know nobody can do me no harm.
Aw, because...

Happiness! Is a warm gun!
Happine-e-ess! Is a warm gun, mama!

Happiness is a warm, yes it is...

OOOOOOHHHH!

Oh, don't you know that happiness! Is a warm gun!