Happiness is a Warm Gun (Lennon/McCartney)
She's not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do do do
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 multicoloured 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
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.
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Cataclysms celebrate
A whirling soul ablaze with spirited gleam
A silence made sullen by the lightning's voice
Four armed comet scrapes a spiritless earth
Scream eternal void
Spinning firey cycles in uncorrupt space
The whimpering age of plead dissipates
Superseding failed flesh
Epochal sorrows unformed yet ripening
Smoke ebbing rays of their dying son
Slintering suns in the abyss
Wheeling Four evolve into Fifth
Dull clay and (matter) grey made ambient
Fourth season's funerary call to rebirt