(Happiness is a Warm Gun)
He is a man who misses too much
Doody doody doo doo doo, oh yeah
He's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand like residue on a toilet seat.
The man in the loo with the multi-coloured papers in his weathered hands.
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime.
A complication of his age which he hates, leaving him incontinent and damp
I need to wipe 'cause I'm going ‘round
Down to the bits that I left down down
I need to wipe 'cause I'm going ‘round
Mother’s posterior hides the sun
Mother’s posterior hides the sun
Mother’s posterior hides the sun
Mother’s posterior hides the sun
Happiness is a dry butt (no more doodoo )
Happiness is a dry butt, mama (no more doodoo)
When I hold you in my arms (oh, yeah)
And I feel my finger on my sphincter (oh, yeah)
I know nobody can do me no harm (oh, yeah)
Because, (happiness) is a dry butt, mama (no more doodoo )
Happiness is a dry butt, yes it is (no more doodoo)
Happiness is a dry, yes it is, butt
Happiness (no more doodoo )
Well don't you know that happiness (happiness) is a dry butt, (is a dry butt, yeah).